


Rosas

by colocakes



Series: Heart A La Mode [2]
Category: Tegami Bachi | Letter Bee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colocakes/pseuds/colocakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's why I waited for you to return with a thousand roses for me. Because you know I like those sorts of things, it doesn't matter if its dumb, I'm like that." - Rosas, La Oreja de van Gogh</p><p>A story about a boy and a mail man, and fairy tale love in a world where fairy tales don't come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Welcome to part one of the third au! This ones a bit different. But I think people will like it! Maybe.

The background information! Basically set in a world where Atlantis never sank and was a real place. It went like all countries, developing and changing, wars and such. That country was later named amberground. As its set in the real world, there was always a sun, but much of the world remains the same. This is set in the early 1900s and the only real way to communicate remains mail. The capital is public, if you have a pass, and thats basically it! Nothing supernatural.

Inspiration: “love story” by taylor swift.   
Rating: T+, WILL CHANGE at chapter 10.  
Warnings: “shota”, ooc?, au, character death.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Onward!

0000000000

“Driving”

Lag held on tightly to his beat up old suitcase as the rickety truck bounced and shook. Next to him, a lanky white dog sat, seeming to mock the boy with how easily it stayed seated and steady on the cracked leather seat. He scrubbed at his still running nose with his frayed sleeve, watching the dirt road ruefully. 

The silence stretched for a while, before Gauche finally broke. He glanced at the miserable little boy, uneasy. “Do you need a tissue?”

Lag kept his swollen gaze on the dusty old dashboard. “Mfine.”

“Right...” well, he tried. Roda, his faithful companion cast a concerned glance at the boy and then to her master. The young man tried not to make eye contact. He wasn’t good at this. Whatever “this” even was. 

Over an hour ago, Gauche had been doing his routine deliveries. Dusty roads stretched for miles and the houses were still and silent. Just how he preferred his days. The appearance of a resident, however, had stopped this. 

Lag was a regular sight for his route, often retrieving his mother's mail and sometimes playing with Roda, so the man wasn’t surprised to see him sitting at the mailbox. He had been surprised, however, to see the boy sobbing to the point that Gauche had feared he might throw up.

When he approached the boy, he had been surprised to have a shaky little hand offer a crisp envelope (except where sticky snotty hands had touched) to him. On the front was Gauche's name written in fine handwriting. Inside had been an uncomfortable request from Lag's mother to take him to his aunt's house. 

When Gauche asked to see the woman, Lag's sobs grew in intensity and the man quickly attempted to sooth the child. Grudgingly, he coaxed the boy into his delivery truck and carried on with the route. Gauche didn’t try to talk to him. After the first ten minutes, Lag stopped crying. He snuffled noisily, the sound turning the man's stomach, but overall became relatively silent. 

After that, they'd carried on until now. Gauche remained in much the same state he'd started as. Glancing at his map, he judged that the destination – one Sabrina Mary's house – would be another two hours away. His truck would need to be refueled... 

“S-She's sick...” 

Gauche blinked, startled from his thoughts of his boss yelling at him. Glancing at the boy, he assumed he meant his mother. He waited for the boy to continue.

Lag remained quiet for a long moment. Gauche assumed he wasn’t going to continue talking and returned his focus to navigating the potholes and stray rubble in his path. 

Seemingly annoyed, the boy mumbled, “Arencha gonna ask...?”

This was going to be a long day. “Ask what?”

“Where momma went...” 

Gauche regarded Lag for a moment, turning the question in his head briefly. “Its none of my business.”

Lag watched him with what the man could only assume was a sour expression. The boy turned his attention back to the endless prairie ahead of them. Gauche fought the urge to sigh when the boy began to sniff noisily. Roda looked between them in disappointment. 

“Its none of my business.” he repeated, “But if you really have to, you can talk...”

“Y-You don’t care...” Lag replied sourly. 

“You can talk if you want...” He wouldn’t know what to ask regardless. This was already too surreal. 

It was silent again. For a moment, Gauche hoped the boy would stay that way. True to his name, he wasn’t equipped to be a socially adept human being. He'd prefer not to talk if he could. After a while however, he found the boy talking quietly. 

“She got sick...but no one told me.” he said quietly, voice raspy from crying so hard earlier. “S-she said she couldn’t take care of me...S-so I gotta go live with Auntie...”

It occurred to Gauche that he'd never actually seen the boy's father. Only his fair haired, delicate mother who rarely left her porch. He supposed it made sense now. No parents meant that Lag would have to go to an orphanage or try to live alone, an impossible task for a little kid this far from town. 

“I'm sure she'll get better...if she's in a hospital, then she's luckier than most.” Gauche replied, a feeling of envy running through his veins briefly. 

Lag rubbed his nose clumsily, glancing at Roda and petting her gently. “Y-You think so...?”

“I'm sure she'll be fine.” 

The boy seemed to relax. Roda might have had something to do with that, as she nuzzled the boy's sticky cheek. Gauche was relieved to have the situation pass, focusing fully on the road once again. It wasn’t that he disliked the kid, but he'd never been particularly good with children. Least of all the sticky topic of sickly parents. 

Glancing at his watch, the young man noted it was nearly lunch. He turned to tell Lag that they'd be stopping soon to eat, but paused when he saw that the boy was dozing off against Roda. He blinked, a small smile tugging his lips. 

Truth be told, Lag looked very peaceful and cute when he slept. His eyelashes were long and his rosey (although sticky and icky now) cheeks made him look like a little doll. Albeit a big crybaby doll. Much better though than a crying little boy. Lag reminded him too much of Sylvette, from his wide smiles to his runny nosed crying fit just now. 

Sighing, Gauche gave Roda a light pet, silently thanking her for comforting the boy. She nuzzled his hand and gave a yawn, closing her eyes a bit. Smiling faintly, he turned his focus back to the road. This daily, routine drive had turned out to be so strange.

0000000000


	2. Chapter 2

000000000000

 

“cake”

Lag made a point to invite Gauche to every birthday party he could. At first, his aunt had been uncomfortable with a stranger visiting, no matter how kind Lag insisted that he was. 

Of course, Gauche did his best to show up, even if he had a busy day. This was how the boy had met his friend's little sister, an energetic girl who was bound by a wheel chair. Despite this, she raced around Cambel Litus with the other children, a feat many thought impossible. Lag couldn’t deny how impressed he was, or how his heart beat when she was around. 

So when his birthday was coming up, his aunt Sabrina Mary naturally assumed she'd be cooking for two extra guests. She'd already approached Lag about this, who'd enthusiastically confirmed this. 

It was a modest birthday, with a few friends and a sheet cake for the excited kids. There were balloons and bowls of candy and a banner tied across the room. Lag hadn’t been able to quell his excitement, almost bounding out of his room in his boxers and undershirt. 

Ten was a big age. Lag felt a wave of excitement rush over him when he thought about it. His aunt glanced at him, amused as he insisted on helping set up for the party. To burn off the energy, she assumed. It may also have to do with his budding thoughts of independence though. 

“When do you think your friend will be here?” the woman asked, adjusting the banner's height as the boy's obnoxious pug attempted to dismantle it. 

“Probably around noon.” Lag responded happily. 

It wasn’t long before the first guests began to trickle in. A gruff little blond girl, Niche, was the first to show up and latch onto Lag. She was a sweet, although a bit too rough, girl. Even if she hadn’t been invited, Sabrina mused, she'd probably have shown up anyway. After her were two boys about Lag's age. One was a thin cattish boy, the other a portly child who immediately went for the bowls of snacks. 

“Wheres Sylvette??” the cattish boy, Zazie asked loudly.

“She's not going to bring that awful soup, is she...?” The chubby boy asked around a mouth full of chips. 

From his side, the girl piped up, “Niche hates Sylvette's icky soup!”

“She's coming, around noon!” Lag said, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“He didn’t say anything about the soup...”

000 

The stars were bright in the dying sunlight. They danced in the deeper blues of the sky as the sun sunk lower, casting the port town in shades of golds and black. Sabrina glanced out the window as she cleaned up the living room. Noon had come and gone, the children already gone home after the party had wound down. 

Gauche hadn’t shown up. 

Lag sniffled a bit, shuffling a bit. The front step he was sitting on was chilly without the sun to warm it. He hugged himself, looking down the neatly paved street quietly. The man wasn’t going to show up, he thought bitterly. 

Still, he didn’t want to go inside yet. Childish determination or not. 

For a long time, he'd felt an uncomfortable burning in his chest when the thought of Gauche popped up. Lag wasn’t sure what it was, but the thought of not seeing him made his chest ache. He saw the man so little, what with the distance and the man's busy job. He had to come, Lag thought absently. 

Another hour had gone by and his aunt shook him gently. Rubbing his eye tiredly, the boy glanced up to her. “A-Ah, I must have dozed off...” 

The woman tried not to frown. “Its getting late...”

His stomach sank. Late. A tired smile fought to keep its place on Lag's face. “J-Just a bit more...”

Sabrina regarded the boy in exasperation. Letting out a sigh, she replied. “Come in before your curfew...” It was his birthday, she thought, if he wanted to spend the remainder of his night waiting for a guest that wouldn’t come, what could she say?

Lag smiled, nodding. “I will.”

000 

The sound of quick foot steps woke the boy with a start. Blinking rapidly, Lag searched for the source. He was still on the front step, he thought in a daze, as he looked right and then left. It was dark and much of the street was bathed in shadows where the light posts didn’t reach. 

It took a moment, but Lag realized he wasn’t hallucinating. From the left of the street was a familiar figure hurrying towards him. Lag recognized the uniform anywhere, before he even saw the messy white hair and sepia eyes that it belonged to. 

Pausing in front of him, the man sighed heavily and leaned on his knees. “I-I'm sorry that I was so late!” 

Lag, still in a daze, realized that his missing guest had finally showed up. Swallowing, boy stood and rushed the final few feet between them. Gauche let out a startled cry as Lag threw his weight into him, wrapping his arms around him tight. 

Nuzzling into the worn uniform, Lag mumbled, “S'okay...”

Blinking quickly, the man's expression softened. Lag felt his heart skip a beat as a hand gently carded through his hair. Swallowing, he peered up through his bushy bangs. “I-I saved you a piece of cake...”

Gauche smiled. “Thank you...”

“A-And for Sylvette to...”

“I'm sure she'll be very happy.”

The boy's watery smile was wide as he tugged his friend into the house. It may have been late, but his favorite part of his birthday had finally shown up. That was all he could ask for. 

0000000000


	3. Chapter 3

0000000000

 

“vehicle”

 

The old truck looked almost the same as it had when Lag was only seven. Dusty white metal sides, cracked leather seats, the same mud caked tires. Inside smelled the same, the boy mused as the truck rambled along the dusty road it had so long ago. 

Glancing to the man, the boy smiled a bit. “Its been a while.”

Gauche spared him a glance, “It has. I didn’t think I'd be making a trip this long.”

“I'm sorry...”

The man blinked, shaking his head. “No, its fine. I'm more than happy to.”

Lag had his doubts. Leaning back into the seat, he glanced out the window. He hadn’t left Cambel Litus in years. It was at the extreme opposite of the capital, a trip that would have taken probably a week at the least just to get halfway there by foot. 

A week ago, a letter came from his mother. The news had become progressively dismal as the years had gone by. Her health only got worse by the year. She didn’t have long now, a thought that Lag refused to acknowledge. Still, his mother had requested that he visit. Gauche had been kind enough to agree to take him to the city, the center of their continent. 

At least by truck, it'd take only a week or so. 

One good thing, Lag mused, was that he'd be spending an entire week or two with the man. A smile tugged at his lips. 

000 

 

At noon, they'd pulled into the familiar gas station that Gauche had stopped at all those years ago. Lag came prepared, hopping out of the truck with his wallet and following the man into the station. He wouldn’t be duped into eating that nasty soup twice.

Gauche blinked as Lag looked for a long moment between the prepared meals and the single serve foods. The heated stove popped with grease and the food looked appetizing, if one overlooked the dubious quality. 

“Why don’t you just get the sandwich...?” 

Lag glanced to the man, blinking. Something about the way he said it told him the food wasn’t to be trusted. Lag promptly grabbed the cellophane wrapped sandwich 

000 

Gauche had warned the boy ahead of time that funds were tight. As they checked into the dusty old motel, Lag understood what he meant. Kyrie was a small, over priced place, with people that seemed to pass through the streets like ghosts. 

Lag marveled at the massive church at the center though. Gauche glanced at the awed expression and smiled a bit. “If you want, we can stop and see it before we leave.”

Lag nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile on his face. “I'd like that!”

Had it not been close to ten at night, they'd probably have visited then. As it were, they got to the hotel only to find that the prices were outrageous. Still, Gauche didn’t trust the city and didn’t think he could expect the boy to sleep in the truck. 

It was a small room with cracked walls and a bed that looked like it had seen a murder or two in its time. Gauche felt his stomach turn. 7,000 rin for this...

Lag, for all his disappointment, said, “Its not so bad. Look, it even has a window!” 

“I doubt it even opens...are those nails?” 

It was a tight fit in the bed. Lag hadn’t seemed to mind, and Gauche was thankful the boy was so small as they squirmed to find a comfortable position. An arm here, a leg there, but eventually they formed a comfortable ball of limbs and bodies. 

Swallowing, Lag felt his heart pound in his chest. “I-Its a bit tight...”

“I know...”

Gauche didn’t think it wise to dwell on how much of the boy's body he could feel. His stomach was rolling. “Its only for tonight...”

Lag felt a touch of disappointment. “I know.”

000 

“This is huge!” 

Lag spun in a slow circle to see the entirety of the church, smiling wide. It genuinely was massive, with tall stained glass windows and a towering ceiling. At the highest point, Lag could see an enormous bell. 

“Its the biggest church in AmberGround.” Gauche supplied, following the boy as they walked further inside. “Another Bee commissioned it.”

“A Bee did??” But that must have cost a fortune...!

“Yes. He's pretty famous for it to.” and pretty cool, the man mused. 

000 

It didn’t take long to climb back into the truck and cross the bridge. In the past, Gauche had explained, it was heavily monitored and restricted to all but a small portion of the population. Now, it was just a high toll to cross it. 

Still, the glittering waves that licked at the ancient bridge were beautiful. Lag could have fallen asleep to the sound of the swelling water, had he not been so excited to look around. Bifrost had a special beauty, he mused, that other bodies of water didn’t 

000 

Above them, the trees seemed to sigh as the wind rustled through their branches. They formed a graceful arch over the neatly cobbled road, casting the truck in soft shadows. It was gorgeous, a word Lag found himself attaching to much of the world he was just now seeing. 

Central was a fascinating place, with so much to see and smell and hear. As Gauche's truck puttered down the streets, he paused to tell the boy about the places they saw. He listened eagerly, drinking up the details. The man felt a smile tug at his lips. 

Lag's awe was hard not to catch, Gauche noted. There was something about the wide eyed, slack jawed expressions that made his chest feel light. But seeing a child light up about most anything had that effect, or so he'd been told before. 

000 

Sylvette was delighted to see not only her elusive brother but also her long distance friend. At the age of twelve, she was certainly more matured in many ways, Lag noted, doing his best not to stare. The moment she spotted the boy, Sylvette had insisted they sit at the table and talk. 

The house was like a museum to the boy. It was a two story, narrow home with enough furniture to make it feel homey. Gauche had told him a long time ago, that the house was one of the older buildings in their neighborhood. Easily 90 years. 

That said, the man had no idea about most of the architecture. Neither sibling had any idea about the bannister or the door frames, but then Lag didn’t know about his house either. 

Dinner was, of course, delicious. As he dug into his second helping of shepherds pie, Gauche had informed them that the two would be spending the night here. To save on costs and to actually rest, he had said, but Lag suspected the man just missed home. Lag hadn’t been gone more than a few days and he already missed his aunt. 

000 

The bed, thankfully, was a bit bigger than the hotel one. Still, it was a tight fit. Not that Gauche hadn’t offered to take the couch, but Lag had insisted on sharing. Both had a long trip ahead of them still. 

Nestled next to his friend and near idol, surrounded by his scent and warm blankets, Lag fell asleep quickly. It was possibly the most comfortable place he'd ever slept. It was hard, however, for Gauche to find that same comfort. 

0000000000


	4. Chapter 4

0000000000

 

“there is never a time or place”

 

Lag matured in strange ways, Gauche thought. The boy had shot up a few inches, but his baby fat hadn’t left his cheeks or his middle. He cried far less, although he still bawled with the right prompt. 

The boy was still just that. A child. The way he moved and spoke still conveyed that endless innocence that only children seemed to possessed.

I'm sick, he thought. 

The hospital was bright and smelled of bleach. It made Gauche's head ache. Next to him, Lag dozed against his side. From his vantage point, the boy's long lashes looked especially lovely splayed over his round cheeks. Like puffy snow flakes. 

His stomach rolled. 

No, this wasn’t the time, he thought. They were here to see Lag's mother. The woman's health had waned over the years and only seemed to worsen these days. She was asleep in the bed they sat next to in their stiff chairs. 

Lag had asked with those big, desperate sepia eyes for a ride to the hospital in Akatsuki. It was far, excessively so. Gauche was dumbfounded when the boy had produced two passes to enter the city, a city he'd been working tirelessly for years to enter. The boy was near tears, his voice watery as he rattled off a thousand promises to make up for the trip. 

Gauche had stopped him midway and agreed. 

It had been a long trip. In many ways. Gauche felt sick. The boy beside him had done something over the years to his heart. Gauche didn’t want to acknowledge it. Admitting to these feelings meant that he'd have to accept them. 

Lag mumbled in his light sleep, shifting against the man. After a moment, his visible eye fluttered open in a way that decidedly raised Gauche's blood pressure. When the boy met his gaze, he smiled faintly, the stress of the trip showing through. 

“I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep...”

Gauche waved a hand. “Its fine. You needed it.”

Lag's smile grew a bit. His heart beat faster. Glancing at the still sleeping woman, the man tried to remind himself why he was here. It wasn’t to form inappropriate feelings for a twelve year old, he chided himself. 

0000000000


	5. Chapter 5

Sad times ahead...

 

000000000

 

“hospital”

 

Anne passed away peacefully. There was no drama, no frantic battle to resurrect her. She'd simply fallen asleep, her precious son in the chair next to her, and hadn’t woken back up. A soft expression had graced her youthful face. 

Lag wondered how she could look so happy, when he felt so utterly wretched. 

Letting out a weak sigh, the boy rubbed his sore eyes with the back of his hand. Gauche had went ahead earlier that day, before Lag had awoken to his mother's untimely demise, to get breakfast for them. He'd yet to return.

What if he left to...?

A crippling ache attacked Lag's chest. Sucking in a breath, he held his shirt tight. Gauche would never do something like that. The man could be sorely forgetful, sure, and sometimes made him cry, but abandoning him was far from a possibility. 

Right?

Then why did it feel like he had?

It was noon. His mother had been gone for hours. Gauche had been gone for hours. He was alone. Swallowing, Lag forced himself to take deep breaths. 

He wasn’t alone. Gauche would come back. 

A fresh wave of nausea crashed over him.

And then what? He'd leave the hospital, leave his mother? Go back home and pretend that his situation was temporary? That he'd see his home again, see his friend's car make its daily drive up that musty old road again, or catch the fluff from the blooming desert flowers with his mother again?

Where was Gauche...?

000 

By the time Gauche returned, it was at least two in the afternoon. He'd gotten lost trying to find a gas station and a place to get breakfast. By the time he had, it was already lunch. Sighing, the man stepped into the small room Lag's mother occupied. 

It was empty.

Frowning, the man looked around before hailing down a passing nurse. 

“Excuse me, but where is the woman who was here...?”

The woman looked exhausted, but replied politely. “The patient passed away this morning. Her son...”

He didn’t hear past that. Anne had died while he was away? Lag was alone...? Anxiety engulfed him. Oh god, he'd left the boy to cope alone.

“W-Where is her son, where is Lag Seeing??” he interrupted.

“H-Her son is...”

There was a gentle tug on the end of his long scarf. Turning, Gauche felt the short lived nausea abate. Lag looked up to him, eyes swollen, but a small smile on his lips. 

“I-Its okay...I'm r-right here...”

The man didn’t stop to think if it was appropriate as he scooped the boy up into a tight hug, dropping the bag of lunch somewhere in the process. He heard Lag's startled gasp and felt two small hands grasp onto his coat. Those hands shook weakly, he noted.

“I'm here, I'm sorry...”

He felt a watery smile against his cheek. “I-I know...”

0000000


	6. Chapter 6

Oh boy, more tiptoeing into the five foot end of the pool! I'm trying super hard to do it slowly so when it just drops into 9 feet no one is like “holy balls when did that happen!?” ehehe...

once again, if adult situations make you uncomfortable, feel free to skip! Also I crammed two prompts into one, since neither was big enough to warrant separate chapters since I need the room. So two for one! Like a bogo 8D

warning: adult situations, oocness, gayness  
inspiration: “sledge hammer” by fifth harmony and the major inspiration, “love story” by taylor swift  
disclaimer: I own nothing!

Onward!

0000000000

“sledgehammer” 

 

The bed was small, but a welcomed luxury after the last week of sleeping in a chair or the back of Gauche's delivery truck. Sighing, Lag felt like his head felt like a thousand pounds as it hit the downy pillow. Mental, emotional and physical exhaustion was catching up to him. 

Sighing, the boy, rolled to his side. He was full and content for the moment. He wouldn’t say he was happy, but the comforting warmth at his back brought him as close to happiness as he could get right then. 

Sylvette's cooking and Gauche's warm body were magic, Lag decided. Still, the proximity brought its own round of sleep depriving thoughts. Was that arm around his belly necessary? Why did the soft puffs of breath against his neck make his entire body tingle? Why did he want Gauche to pull him so he turned around, what was he expecting?

Swallowing, Lag fought the urge to just ask. Gauche knew a lot, so the boy was certain he'd know these answers. Still, it felt like something he shouldn’t ask. 

“Whats the matter?” came a soft murmur.

Too close, Lag thought, ear tingling. “H-Huh??”

The arm around his slight torso tightened reflexively. “You're breathing fast...'

That sounded serious. “I-I'm fine...” 

As the boy attempted to slow his breathing, Gauche peered over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”

No, he thought, he wasn’t His heart was hammering against his rib cage, his mind was a blur and in the center of it all seemed to be the man next to him. Ever since his tenth birthday, nothing made sense when he thought of the man. 

Swallowing, Lag nodded. “Y-Yeah...”

000

 

“dance”

 

Gauche hadn’t visited in a long time. Months had gone by. Lag felt like his entire world had stopped in just a few short weeks. His mother was gone, his friend had stopped coming and his heart was behaving strangely these days.

He took to reading, when studying wasn’t enough to keep the loneliness at bay. Sure, he had his friends. Zazie and his cat parade still visited and Connor showed up almost daily. Niche still clung to him like a shadow and his aunt Sabrina was always there to talk.

But something was still missing...

Shaking his head, Lag sighed and turned a page. Classes still rambled on, the homework never ending. His literature teacher was a man with great passion for old works, giving them a book every few months to study and write about.

This month, was more of a play. Lag always had trouble understanding old English, even though his own language was rooted in Latin and Germanic languages. He should, by all accounts, be able to understand this perfectly.

Should, but couldn’t, he mourned as he stared at the cheat sheet he kept by his bed. Another thing, he noted, was that this particular author was obsessed with killing off lovers. How did people get into these scenarios??

Furthermore, he didn’t understand how two families could fight like cats and dogs. Although, despite the unbelievable parts, Lag found himself enjoying Romeo And Juliet more than he'd expected.

A story of two people, separated by so much, finding love and happiness... it sounded too good to be true for a Shakespeare play, he thought. He wasn’t finished though.

Still...he wondered how it felt, to be loved so much and to love so much, that he could risk his life for that person. 

And to meet in such a romantic way, how lucky could these two get...

Sighing, Lag attempted to decipher the next page. Meeting at a huge ball and climbing up a balcony...he wondered if any of his friends had ever felt something so strong to make them do something so crazy.

Lag wondered, briefly, if Gauche ever felt that way about someone. Closing his eyes, the boy let himself imagine such a thing. 

The memory of sleeping so close to Gauche, feeling his heart beat soothingly against his back came to mind. Swallowing, Lag felt his entire face heat up. 

For months now, that last night in Gauche's room haunted him. In his dreams, things escalated. Lag didn’t know what they were doing, but he knew they were embarrassing, private sort of dreams. He'd gleaned as much from Zazie and Connor anyway.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Lag told himself not to think about it. Weird things happened with friends, it didn’t mean anything. Rolling onto his side, he ignored how his body reacted to the memory. 

His aunt had explained that puberty could be cruel. He wasn’t sure what to think of that yet. Lately, he wasn’t sure what to think at all. 

He wanted his friend back. He wanted to have more of those nights. He wanted so many things that contradicted themselves. 

If Gauche was here, he could have asked him if he thought about nights like that. If he still remembered how warm and soft he was. Or maybe just begged him for answers to his strange thoughts. 

Why wasn’t he here????

This stupid play wasn’t helping.

 

0000000000


	7. Chapter 7

Sylvette is one of my favorite characters Xwx It shows, I think...

0000000000

 

“gift wrap”

 

The sun was beginning to set and Gauche was still searching for a gift. The shops were starting to close up, merchants pulling the shutters to the windows down and wiping down displays. Sighing as the last shop closed up, the man hung his head. 

Lag's birthday was in a day. He'd been invited to the party, with an invitation that seemed to plead that he come. 

Anxiety flooded his chest. It wasn’t that Gauche didn’t want to go, really...it was just that... 

Inappropriate feelings arose around the boy. The urge to grab him up and hug him tight, to kiss him, more... they terrified Gauche. And not much actually scared the world weary man. He'd faced bandits in the Blue Pumpkin Mountains, been near the brink of starvation with no gas reserves, even been bitten by poisonous insects in the White Desert.

And yet, falling in love was by far the most terrifying thing he'd ever encountered. 

Was it love...?

Not that Gauche was any expert or anything, but loving someone so young seemed...well, out of the ordinary. Maybe Aria or Thunderland Jr might now...but asking something so conspicuous was...

Shaking his head, the man frowned. He was ruining a friendship with a broken child over his insecurities and unhealthy affections. This was wrong. He absolutely could not do this to Lag. Lag needed him to be his friend, who kept his well being in mind and took care of him. He absolutely did not need a creep stepping to him. 

000 

Sylvette glanced up at her brother as he entered the house, frowning. He'd returned a bit late, not unusual for him, but concerning as of late. Gauche hadn’t been himself these last months. Sylvette wasn’t a genius, but she had noticed that it coincided with the last time he'd seen Lag. 

“Welcome home brother!” she called, putting aside her worries.

Gauche glanced up from undoing his uniform, smiling warmly. “Sorry I'm late...”

Shaking her head, Sylvette rolled her chair to him, smiling. “Its fine. I have dinner warming in the oven, are you hungry?”

She could see the exhaustion shed from her brother's frame at the mention of food. “I'd like that.”

000 

The fire crackled softly in the hearth. Sylvette hummed to herself quietly as she did the finishing touches on the set of dolls she was making. Gauche had long since gone to bed, exhaustion from the day winning the battle. Still, she had things to do before the party tomorrow.

She hadn’t seen Lag or their friends since that summer and she wanted to spend as much time with her friends as possible tomorrow. She'd told her brother that they'd share their gift, since he had let her use his photo of the group as a reference. 

It sat neatly in her lap, a glossy photo of the last time they'd met. Sylvette and Lag in the forefront, Gauche behind with the two holding his hands. On either side of them stood Zazie and Connor, Niche clinging to Lag's arm possessively. Bright toothy smiles sat on the children's faces, a warm memory even now.

Sylvette hadn’t seen her brother smile quite that way in a long time. It was no secret that something had blossomed between her brother and Lag, she thought. It seemed the only people unaware were the two themselves.

It was almost comical, the girl thought, watching them fumble around each other these days. But whatever had happened, it hadn’t ended for the better. And Sylvette missed her friends and the way her brother always seemed so happy. 

She was just relieved that, for better or worse, Lag had tried to remedy the distance. 

Laying the finished dolls in a box, the girl smiled to herself. At least now, things might go back to normal. Tying a thick ribbon around the box, she hummed to herself. Things could only go up from here, right?

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	8. Chapter 8

Oh boy finally! The cute stuff you all thought would never happen! I had both a lot of fun and was really uncomfortable writing this, primarily cuz i've never really written gauche/lag before Xwx but it was fun!

Warnings: ideologically sensitive themes! Shota, possibly ooc

onward!

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“heart beat”

 

“You'll be fine, brother. Relax.” Sylvette soothed, glancing at her brother.

Gauche had been parked down the road from Lag's house for aproximately fifteen minutes, finding any number of reasons to postpone the party. It wasnt hard to see that the man was nervous, although he snapped from his thoughts at Sylvette's prompt.

“I'm fine...”he mumbled, embarrassed to be read so easily.

A smile tugged at the girl's lips. “Then why dont we get going? Connor is going to eat everything if we wait much longer.”

Gauche smiled and set about getting his sister out of the beat up old mail truck. Even though he was smiling, Sylvette could see his unease a mile away. She supposed she didnt blame him. The two made their way to the house at a slow pace, even still. 

Even from outside, the two could hear Connor's frantic cries of, “Zazie no! Tell your cats to get away from my pizza!”

Glancing up at her brother, the girl smiled. “Looks like things are already started.”

Gauche swallowed, drying his hands against the insides of his shirt cuffs. “Yeah.”

The girl eyed the man for a long moment, waiting to see if he was going to knock or if she should. She was about to just do it herself when the door flung open, a frantic Connor darting out and around them with a plate of pizza.

“No! No go away you awful things!”

A trail of cats gave chase. Zazie was cackling inside, a few cats sitting on his shoulders. The absurdity of the situation was overshadowed by a worried Lag, who came barreling out after his fleeing friend. 

“Connor wait! You can have more pizza!!” he cried.

Unlike Connor, a natural born escapist, Lag ran full on into his newest guests, yelping and stumbling. Gauche reacted on instinct, reaching out to steady the boy. That brief contact was enough to stun him, a burst of butterflies infesting his belly. Startled, the boy turned his gaze upwards and froze. Their eyes met, a flurry of emotions surging through them. 

Swallowing hard, Gauche forced himself to speak. “Are you okay?”

The spell broken, Lag felt his breath catch in his throat. So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many needs warring with each other. Frustration and relief pooled in his stomach, hot tears stinging his eyes. 

“Y-You really showed up...!” he wailed, hugging the man tight.

Gauche gasped quietly as the boy buried his face in his stomach, sobbing as if he'd been told his dog had died. Hesitantly, he gently carded his fingers through the boy's hair. 

“Y-Yeah...I did.”

He wasnt privy to the knowing smile that tugged at the edges of Sylvette's lips. 

000 

Tension melted away as if there hadnt been months of no communication. The three of them talked and joked as if they had never skipped a beat, playing with their friends. Even though Lag's aunt was watching him like some sort of criminal, Gauche had to say that he missed these warm parties.

Lag was thrilled by Sylvette's gift, marveling at the small details and jeweled eyes. Zazie's cats especially liked them, stealing them constantly. It resulted in goofy chases around the house, and eventually became a game between Zazie and Lag. 

Dusk fell over the town and the party had to end however, prompting the children to head home. Lag bid them farewell at the door, smiling wide as he waved at the slowly shrinking backs of his friends. He turned back to the livingroom, smiling wide at his remaining two guests. 

His aunt was teaching Sylvette how to cook a new dish, their voices drifting lazily through the kitchen. Gauche remained in the livingroom, looking out of place in the warm and comfortable room. The boy took a seat next to his friend, his bright smile never fading. 

Blinking, the man turned to look at his little friend. Lag looked adorable when he beamed like that, he mused. “Its been a while since I saw a cat outwit Connor.”

“He lost half a pizza, thats impressive!” 

“I wonder how they know how to target him.” Gauche mused aloud, tapping his chin in thought. 

Lag shrugged, “I think Zazie trains them.”

From inside the kitchen, they heard laughter float through the air. Pausing to listen, Lag felt his mind calm. Turning his gaze to the man next to him, he felt the familiar burst of butterflies fill his belly. It felt so out of place to be this down right giddy. 

Gauche, noticing the soft gaze, felt his stomach turn. “Is there something on my face...?”

“Ah? No...” Lag laughed nervously, itching his cheek. “I was just...wondering, why you vanished for so long...”

The drop in mood was almost a physical chill in the room. Of course he wants to know, Gauche thought, he had every right to wonder. Turning his attention to the kitchen, he debated telling the truth. It would be too hard to lie to Lag's face. 

“I...was having problems.” Gauche admitted, attempting to skirt the issue. “I didnt think it was smart to involve you.”

Lag's face fell, worry clouding his vibrant sepia eyes. “What happened? Was it...” was it my fault?

Gauche heard the unspoken words, cringing. Lag deserved honesty. But...this wasnt something he knew how to say. Sabrina's voice drifted from the kitchen, making his stomach turn. No, talking about this here wouldnt be wise.

“Can...we talk about this elsewhere?”

000 

Lag climbed the steep hill easily, pausing at the crest to admire the view of the ports. From the hills the surrounded the town, he could see for miles. The setting sun cast the exposed red rocks in shades of gold and rust. It shone in his hair like glitter, catching the individual strands. 

He was far more beautiful than any ocean view, Gauche thought, breathless. Swallowing back the pressure in his throat, the man made his way up the steep incline to stand next to the boy. Lag chewed his lip anxiously, glancing to him. 

“This is the most private place I can think of.” Lag said, a small smile on his face. “So we can talk here easy.”

Easy. Easy for him to say, Gauche mourned. Taking a seat on a boulder, the man heaved a sigh. How to begin...

Lag sat next to him, hopping up with a huff. “Its okay...if you just say it.” he offered, smile nervous. “If its...its my f-fault...”

The telltale signs of a soon to be crying boy caused the man to sigh, ruffling his hair gently. “Its not your fault.”

“Then...why...?” 

The ache in Lag's voice tore at him. Honesty, he reminded himself. “Its...because of me. I've been...having thoughts lately.”

He could almost hear the gears spinning in Lag's head as the boy fought to understand. He really was precious...

Running a hand through his bangs, Gauche searched for a diplomatic way to say it. “Thoughts about...y-you.”

This time, Lag caught on faster than expected. “M-Me? L-Like...?”

A nod. 

There was a heavy silence. The sounds of the nearby ocean waves lapping at the jagged rocks of the coast line echoed in what Gauche thought must have been eternity. He hates me. He's disgusted. I'm disgusting. He'll never speak to me again-

“I-Is that really it?” a nervous chuckle escaped the boy, before it became a giddy laugh.

Blinking owlishly, Gauche turned to look at the boy quizzically. “W-Wha...?”

Lag's face was beet red, big dewy tears threatening to fall. But he looked like he'd been relieved of something that weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was Gauche's turn to be confused beyond belief. 

“I-I thought...I-I thought I did something really bad...!” Lag hiccuped, his laughter quickly turning into little sobs. “I-I thought y-you h-hated me!”

Guilt drenched the man. “What could you have done? Dont be silly.” he said, gathering the boy up and pulling him into a gentle hug. 

Burrying his face in his friend's chest, Lag felt for the first time in those long months, that everything would be okay. “I-I just...” he had been so afraid. The more time that had passed, the more he began to worry that somehow Gauche had seen those deep, strange feelings he brought out in him and rejected them. 

“You're the only person who'd cry over a confession...” Gauche teased, a small smile forming. 

Lag sniffled pathetically, turning his head up to see the man. “I-I'm not a crybaby!”

Snickering, he pressed a kiss to the sniveling boy's forehead. “I never said you were.”

If at all possible, Lag's face heated even further. The sun's last rays caught the boy's messy face, reminding him of that crybaby he'd picked up all those years ago. Snotty and sticky or not, the man pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. 

The sniffles stopped briefly and Gauche reveled in the way the boy's hands tightened in his shirt. He hoped they never let go.

0000000000


	9. Chapter 9

Heeeey you thought it was awkward before? The mic drop of awkward is about to happen. Be forewarned. Also, partly plot and filler dump. Enjoy!

 

00000000

 

“letter”

Lag was used to distance. From the time he was 7, he'd been carrying on a long distance relationship with his mother, a woman whose face had begun to fade in his memory over the years. What was a few hundred miles? Letters could cross it easily. 

Amberground was a massive place. In the past, it'd take weeks just to cross one ring of it. Specialized mail men were the only real hope of communication for most of the public. But time and advancements had bridged the literal gaps in the world, bringing vehicles to those who could afford them and speeding up commerce and communication by leaps and bounds.

Still, it was hard to keep connected over long distances. Even in the 1920s, most people didn’t own a vehicle hardy enough to traverse the split continent. The postal service did, of course, but with the rate of crime between towns even they weren’t always consistent. 

During those long gaps between letters from Gauche, Lag often laid awake at night. Was he safe? Was he attacked? Did he already respond or had it been lost with another worker? 

Gauche's route wasn’t anywhere near Lag's little coastal town. There was no way of really knowing. It made his stomach turn. 

Still, the man did his best even before that awkward first kiss to show up at his doorstep at least once a month. Friends made time, he had said. Now was no different, although Lag felt his anxiety swell up every day past the scheduled dates. 

But when Gauche did show up on time, tired and a bit dusty, it was as if the fear and anxiety of those many days had just melted away. His aunt, who he'd often talked the ear off of as a child, would sigh while she listened to him blubber and carry on. 

Gauche would laugh and pet the boy gently, letting him vent his worries before he gently moved him aside to kick off his boots and tug off his heavy coat. They'd sit in the living room and talk for hours, although it was mostly Lag doing the talking. 

By the time lunch rolled around, Sabrina was surprised that Gauche's ears weren’t bleeding. When the day began to draw to a close, Lag would tug him to the spare room, insisting that he stay rather than chance a dangerous trip home or spend money at an inn. 

Glancing at a photo of Anne, Sabrina would thank the woman for raising such a considerate and sweet child. 

000

Gauche had a stack of letters in his desk drawer at home, and some in his dash board for the times when things were hard. Rereading the clumsy words raised his spirits after a hard week of long distance deliveries. 

Lag's writing was often cramped, with the attempts to fit as much as he could in a page or two. It was endearing, if not a bit hard to read. Although at this point, just seeing the worn and aged envelopes often was enough to inspire a sense of comfort in the man. 

Most of them were from years ago, when Lag was 7 or 10. On the backs of the sheets of paper, when there wasn’t more writing, there often be drawings. Gauche would be honest, Lag wasn’t a particularly good artist. But still, the thought was what counted. 

In the past, Aria had been curious about who mailed her friend so often and Gauche had wondered if it was strange to get mail from a kid. Now, he was just thankful that no one read them. 

Most of the letters were the same as they'd always been, stuffed to the edges with writing about how Lag's day had been. Zazie had raised at least ten cats, Connor could fit two whole pizza slices in his mouth at once and Niche had found her way into his room again despite frequent lectures from his aunt. The words warmed his heart. The only difference were the tell tale signs of erased little hearts at the bottom of the page. 

Sometimes though, things strayed from the routine. Not often, but when thered been a particularly long gap in the visits or a hard week, Gauche would find an extra page full of “I miss you”s and awkward confessions that left the man thankful that his door had a lock on it. 

Which brought up another issue that he'd never really had before. Longing was new. A different kind of longing, different than when he'd miss Sylvette or Aria after a long trip away from home. It kept him awake long after he'd laid down to sleep. 

Even though it'd been a few months since that awkward first kiss, Gauche still found himself terrified of how his heart and body reacted to that memory. 

000 

Sylvette was a wonderful buffer, Lag found himself thinking. When she came with Gauche, she took much of the scrutiny off of the two by distracting his aunt. The two would trade recipes and talk, giving them enough time to slip away.

Not that they did anything particularly risque, Lag mused, but even just cuddling was something they had to hide. It was nice to be out of the spot light. Surreptitiously the two snuck out of the house and headed for the cliffs. 

Lag sighed, relief spreading through his bones as he sat on the warm stone. “I'm so glad that Sylvette is such good friends with auntie...”

Laughing a bit, the man sat next to him. “They do get along very well, don’t they?”

And just like that, a weight slipped off of their shoulders. It was easy to talk again, easier still to relax into the man's side. Gauche felt a smile tug at his lips, pulling the boy closer. Warm and small, he mused, like a cat. Though he thought the boy would fume if he said that aloud. Nuzzling into his side, the boy let his eyes close in contentment. 

“I missed you...” he mumbled.

Gauche rubbed his back gently, pressing a kiss to his head. “I missed you to.”

Cheeks warming, the boy peeked up through his bangs. “I-I thought you might get mad...cuz of what I wrote last time.”

Laughing nervously, the man tilted his head. “I'm not mad. I'm...surprised.”

“A bad kind...?”

Sensing the oncoming of tears, Gauche lowered his head to kiss Lag's nose. “No, not a bad kind.”

Blinking, Lag resisted the urge to rub at his nose. “If you're sure...”

“I am.” the man said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

It was hard not to laugh as the boy's face turned beet red. He could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. How could such a shy kid write the things he did? Maybe it was just easier to write it than to say or do it. 

“To be honest?” Gauche began, feeling self conscious suddenly. “It was really...nice.”

Glancing up at him, Lag blinked owlishly. “Nice?”

“Nice.” the man replied, nodding. “I thought...that I was the only one who thought about that.”

If it were at all possible, Lag looked ready to burst. If he gets any redder, he'll pop, Gauche mused. “Lag, breathe...”

The boy wheezed a bit, sucking in a breath sharply. He looked like he wanted to say something, but found that thinking was difficult just then. Motor functions flew out the window when his friend-now-more was so close and admitted to base urges. 

Running his fingers through the boy's hair gently, Gauche fought the urge to tease him. Lag was just too cute when he got like this. “We don’t need to talk about it, if you want.”

Swallowing hard, the boy leaned closer and mumbled, “I-Its fine...”

Turning the topic elsewhere, Gauche said, “Sylvette was pretty excited for the summer. She wanted to have a picnic with everyone.”

Lag glanced up, blinking. “A picnic?”

“Mhm.” the man hummed, petting Lag's downy hair gently. “She wanted to come back with me next week. Is that okay?”

Lag broke out into a bright smile, nodding fast. “Of course! That sounds really great!”

“I'll tell her you said so.” Gauche replied, smiling. 

Settling back into a comfortable silence, the boy waved his legs a bit. As hard as it was to wait for his friend-now-more, it definitely was worth it. 

000000000


	10. Chapter 10

Oh boy. Here it is. The chapter. I think we all know what that means. No? Well thats good then! I-it may get more intense in the next chapter, but I promise nothing graphic. Or at least not graphically written. 

Warnings: underage sex being hinted at. Thats really it.   
Inspiration: “love story” by taylor swift

o-onward? 

000000000000

 

“moonlight”

 

Lag yawned wide, watching Gauche carry Sylvette up the stairs. She had a content little smile, her head tucked against his neck as she slept. It had been a long day, Lag mused, stretching a bit. 

The picnic turned out to be more involved than the girl had expected, with much of the meal being either eaten by Connor or stolen by Zazie's cats. The cat hoarding boy was pleased to show the new set of kittens his favorite cat had given birth to, who in turn seemed bent on targetting Connor. 

It couldnt have been a better day. Warm, sunny and surrounded by friends in the park. Even if Sylvette had insisted that they all at least try the soup she'd brought (“Its a different recipe! Really!” “I-Its so gross...”) it had still been a lot of fun.

But, as dictated by the powers that be, everything had to come to a close eventually. Their friends had left and only the sleepy trio was left. His aunt had okay'd the boy's plea for the siblings to sleep over and no sooner than that had been said, Sylvette was fast asleep on the couch. 

Glancing at the old grandfather clock, Lag noted it had to be at least 9 at night. His curfew was in an hour, although he rarely had to follow it in the summer. Making his way up the stairs, the boy did his best to step over the creaky steps and floor boards. His aunt should be asleep and he didnt want to wake her up.

The boy fumbled for the switch to his light, mumbling quietly as he stumbled through to room trying to find his bed side table. Finding it, the boy flicked the knob. Nothing. Frowning, he mumbled to himself. The bulb must be dead. 

Well, he wasnt here to do any work so he supposed it could wait until morning. At least the moon that spilled through his open window was enough to see with. A quiet knock sounded off on the door frame. Starting, the boy turned and felt a sigh escape. Just Gauche. Wait.

“Can I come in...?”

Blinking, Lag nodded. The man looked like he felt out of place in the doorway, even though he'd slipped into Lag's room plenty of times in the night. Night time cuddles were important, Lag had told him, even though they'd gone most of their lives without them before now. 

Gauche stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself, blinking in the darkness. Lag gestured to the lamp. “The bulb died...”

“Ah.” 

Sitting on the bed, Lag yawned wide before patting it. Gauche snickered, moving to sit beside the boy, not needing to be told twice that it was the designated cuddle time. He gathered the boy up into his arms and promptly flopped over, burying his face in the snowy locks. Squirming to get comfortable, Lag let out a sigh of contentment. 

It was stifling in the room, Lag thought sleepily. He hadnt had time to undress before Gauche got in, although clothes or not, two bodies squashed together rarely helped abate the heat. Still, cuddle time. 

Nuzzling under his chin, the boy listened for the familiar heart beat. It felt a bit elevated tonight. Blinking his eyes open, he peered up at the man. The moonlight spilled over their forms, catching Gauche's hair and making it glow. His eyes were closed, though Lag knew he was still awake. Over the months, he'd grown to recognize the subtle gestures that told him the man's mental states. 

The hand on his back twitched a bit. It was just low enough to catch his hormone's attention. Gulping, Lag told himself to relax. It was just a twitch, nothing purposeful. Still, everything jumped in his body around the man. 

He heard a light chuckle and lips moving against his head. “Are you okay? You're breathing like you ran a mile.”

Stupid hormones. Lag nodded, stammering. “Y-Yeah, just...um...”

Gauche didnt need to be told what had happened. Sometimes he forgot what it was like to be young and a stranger in a body that was changing constantly. Kissing the boy's forehead, he smiled. “Do you need me to leave?”

Lag's face was beet red as he let out a whine and hid his face. “N-No...u-um...”

A thought occurred. The hand on the boy's back settled on his side lightly, thumb drawing lazy circles on the exposed skin where his shirt rode up. The reaction was instantaneous, a soft gasp escaping. Lag's hands tightened in his shirt. 

“Do you want me to help...?”

Lag was quiet for a moment, before nodding gently. 

0000000000


	11. Chapter 11

Wooaaaah this was far more tame than I expected. Mostly because i'm a coward and I couldnt commit to full blown detailed sex. Well, thats a good thing since this needs to stay under the T rating! Good things, all good things.

Longer than the other chapters due to ~dramaaaa~ 

warnings: non-detailed handjobs, super cliché, shota  
inspiration: “love story” by taylor swift

onward! 

0000000000

 

“store”

 

“Lag, I'm going to go shopping for dinner.” Sabrina called, slipping her foot into a shoe.

The boy poked his head from the doorway of the living room, smiling. “Alright aunty! Do you need any help?”

Glancing into the room, the woman spotted Gauche sitting on the couch. The two had been busy with a card game, from the looks of it. “No, that’s alright. You stay and have fun with your friend.”

Lag nodded, heading back to the game. “Be safe aunty!” he called.

Basket in hand, Sabrina cast one last glance at the two before heading out. Lag listened for the click of the door closing behind his aunt, before setting down the cards he'd been holding. Gauche blinked, glancing at the boy. 

The giddy smile on his face told him all he needed to know. Over the last month, they had developed their own silent way of asking without asking. As much as Gauche loved hearing the boy stumble over his words, he knew it stressed Lag out to ask for intimacy. It was just easier to go along with it.

Smiling back softly, the man set down the cards he'd been holding. Lag stood, tugging his hand and he followed the gentle pull out of the room and up the stairs. They had at least an hour, more than enough time for whatever the boy had planned. 

Even now, his heart raced. 

000 

It would be a lie to say that Sabrina liked Gauche, per se. The man had settled into their lives the way that dust settled over shelves. There was simply no helping it, she mused, and the most one could do was to keep it in check.

Of course he made her uncomfortable being around Lag. A grown man that seemed much too close to her charge would make anyone uncomfortable. And it wasn’t just the way he smiled at Lag just a bit too long, or how his eyes softened when they fell on the boy. It was his entire existence. 

Still, she couldn’t very well banish him from the house without causing Lag a great deal of pain. Besides, he hadn’t truly given her a reason to dislike him, not really. Just existing wasn’t an excuse. 

Sighing, Sabrina picked an apple from the tidy pile before her, inspecting it. Lag could eat her out of house and home on a good day, and today Gauche was visiting. While she was out, she might as well shop for the boy's lunch tomorrow to...

It was a warm day, possibly one of the last before autumn came around. Sabrina wasn’t looking forward to the chilly air and the rainy season. Still, it brought its own joys. The changing leaves, the festivities of Christmas. All things that reminded the woman that it was worth the chill. 

It wasn’t until Sabrina went to reach for her wallet that she'd realized she'd left it at home. Mumbling, she set the apple back down and headed back. 

000 

Lag was a comforting warmth against his chest, his hair tickling the man's nose as he squirmed closer to him. A hand clenched his forearm hard, blunt nails digging into his skin. Gauche held him closer, nuzzling his cheek and pressing a kiss to it.

This was his favorite part, he'd found, of his new found intimacy with the boy. The way he wriggled in Gauche's arms, the sound of his breathy cries, the way he jerked his hips into the man's hand with a desperation he couldn’t put words to. When he caught a glimpse of Lag's face, he felt a bit dizzy. 

Burying his face in the boy's soft hair, Gauche felt his heart race. After this, he knew he'd feel strange, as if he didn’t fit in his body quite right. But right now, he couldn’t have found a more comfortable place in the world than right here. 

000 

Stepping into the house, the woman paused. Something immediately felt amiss. It occurred to Sabrina that she couldn’t hear any talking. It next occurred to her that there were sounds that were all too familiar, and yet, foreign. 

It took a moment for Sabrina to realize that she was hearing moans. 

Following the sound to the staircase, the woman stared up at the just out of sight bedroom door. In the time it took her to realize what was happening, she'd already been halfway up the staircase. She pushed the door open hard enough that it slammed.

What she saw, she couldn’t have been prepared for. 

Her little nephew was in Gauche's lap, pants shoved down to his knees. A hand was loosely wrapped around his erection, its motion continuing for a moment as if the reaction to her appearance had been delayed. 

Lag, for his part, snapped from the daze he'd been in the moment he comprehended who was in his door. The dawning horror on the two's face told Sabrina that they were both fully back to reality. 

Hand shaking on the doorknob, the woman shouted, “What the hell is going on here?!”

Gauche's hand was off the boy in a fraction of a heart beat. Lag was frozen in horror up until the warmth of his hand left. He fumbled to pull up his pants. The next few minutes were a blur of action. Lag found himself wrenched from Gauche's warm, safe hold and clutched to his aunt's side like a rag doll. He watched, lost for words, as the woman shouted at his friend-now-more at the top of her lungs. 

The look on Gauche's face was crushing. 

Squirming in his aunt's hold, Lag cried, “A-Aunt Sabrina, i-its not l-like that! H-He wasn’t hurting me-!”

“Quiet!” the woman snapped, ignoring the boy's protests. 

It hadn’t taken much to get Gauche out of the house. He stumbled out the door with a hard push from Sabrina, his coat and boots tossed at him as he regained his balance. Reality seemed stunted, the scenario seeming like something from a novel or a love song, rather than real life. 

Attempting to hold the items that had been thrown, the man felt a cold chill run up his spine. He felt eyes on him. The entire block was watching him. Swallowing hard, he turned his focus to Sabrina, who was still shouting.

“-gusting! Get the hell out of here, don’t you dare come back!!”

Lag struggled to get by the woman, panic alight on his face. “N-No, you don’t understand!!” he cried. 

The woman easily pushed him aside, ignoring his cries. “You heard me!”

The crowd was growing. A man called, “Whats going on here, Sabrina??”

All three of them went stiff. It seemed to occur just then to Sabrina and to Lag, that they weren’t alone. Gauche could see the warring emotions and thoughts in the woman's eyes. 

Casting a glance at her nephew, the woman swallowed hard. The boy looked terrified and not for himself. His vivid eyes darted around, wide and dewy, before landing on his aunt. He chewed his lip hard, trying not to cry. The hand she'd used to hold Lag began to quiver. 

Lag tugged at Sabrina's arm, pleading, “P-Please, a-at least let him go without trouble...!”

To say no to that face would be like crushing a child's dreams, she thought. It didn’t seem quite right. Chewing her lip hard, the woman turned her face away, sighing heavily. 

“Just get going, before I change my mind.” she said.

Gauche stared at her for a long moment, not quite comprehending what was going on for a moment. Swallowing, he cast one last glance at Lag, his heart breaking. The boy's eyes were wide, fat tears freely falling down his cheeks. The boy nodded fast, his mouth opening as if he wanted to speak. He couldn’t seem to will himself to, though. 

If he could rewind time, Gauche would have done anything to take away those tears. 

Turning on his heel, the man hurried down the street. Ever conscious of the crowd at his back, murmuring and asking the woman loudly what had happened. He made it to his truck, closing the door hard and gripping the steering wheel. 

For a long while, that’s all Gauche did. The full weight of the last 10 minutes of his life crashed down over him. Sucking in a shaking breath, the man brought a hand up to rub his eyes roughly. Things had gone so badly, so quickly. It still didn’t feel real. His stomach was rolling and his whole body felt as if he had fallen and hadn’t hit the ground yet. The man squeezed his eyes shut tight and took a deep, shuddering breath. 

A long time must have passed, because by the time he looked up again, the street was empty. 

Word would spread fast. He had to go now, before someone took justice into their own hands. Digging in his coat pocket, he tugged out his key ring. Missing the first few times, he managed to get the key into the ignition. The beat up old truck came to life with a clunking sound.

He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave Lag alone. Closing his eyes tight, Gauche reminded himself that his own life was at risk right now, not Lag's. With a heavy heart, he steered the truck out of the small town.

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	12. Chapter 12

Oh boy angst city. I warned you it'd be coming. The next few chapters will have seasonal themes! So thats exciting. 

I feel so bad for sabrina in this fic. She gets the crappy jobs.

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“fall”

 

The leaves crunched noisily underfoot as the boy raced down the street. People gasped and moved out of Lag's way, turning to look as he passed. Unsurprisingly, they were out of the loop. Word hadn’t quite moved through the town the way the three had expected. 

Pausing at the edge of the harbor, the boy sucked in a sharp breath. Before him was the familiar steep pathway that lead to the secluded bluff he and Gauche had often sat and talked on. Chewing his lip hard, the boy forced his tired legs to move.

He'd seen a mail truck. The first one since Gauche had been driven out by his aunt. 

Heart hammering, Lag climbed the narrow little path as fast as he could. They'd promised to meet here, should anything happen. Gauche had promised. He'd never break a promise. 

The view remained unchanging, gorgeous in the setting sun. Waves glittered, the stone was warm and painted in golds and russets. But there was no sign of Gauche. No sign that anyone had been here. 

Shoulders slumping, Lag felt his stomach sink. Chewing his lip hard, he thought his legs might give out. Sucking in a shuddering breath, the boy tugged his coat closed. Looking down, he noticed his hands were shaking.

It had been two weeks, and he felt like it had been two years. Everything had changed abruptly and it wasn’t going to switch back to normal no matter what. 

Tears stung his eyes and Lag rubbed them away roughly. No, he wasn’t going to think like that. It didn’t matter if his aunt looked at him differently, if she didn’t trust him, if she refused to believe what he said. 

Two weeks didn’t matter. Gauche was just waiting for things to cool down. He'd be back soon. And when he was, he and Lag could talk to his aunt and explain things. They'd go back to normal.

That’s what would happen. He was sure of it.

000 

“Lag, what are you doing?”

Flinching, the boy's hand froze. His feather had been scrawling across the paper quickly when his aunt had spoken. Turning to glance at the woman, he swallowed.

She looked so tired. It didn’t escape him that he'd put an enormous stress on her. It didn’t help that she'd had to help with a particularly troubling delivery for a couple this morning either. Her eyes landed on the paper on his desk, narrowing.

“Lag...”

Swallowing hard, Lag instinctively made to cover the letter. “I-Its just homework.”

Sabrina sighed, walking over to the desk and peering over his shoulder. A deep frown tugged at her lips. “I didn’t know homework went out of the city.” she said.

Lag felt like his stomach might drop. “I-Its not...”

The paper was yanked out from under his hand and crumpled up. “I thought we discussed this.”

Staring at the paper ball, the boy felt his eyes sting. “W-We did, b-but-”

“There’s no buts.” the woman snapped, frustration etched into her face. “This isn’t continuing. This is your last warning.”

Turning on her heel, Sabrina left the room as fast as she'd entered. Her heart ached from the look on the boy's face, but she couldn’t allow him to further hurt himself. This was for his own good, she assured herself, ignoring the quiet sobs as she made her way down the stairs.

000 

Aria adjusted her hold on the bag of apples she'd been carrying, raising a hand to knock on the Suede sibling's door. A few moments went by before the door opened, Sylvette's tired face peering out from the gloom of the foyer. 

“Yes...? Oh, Aria!” immediately the gloom vanished from her face, replaced with a cheerful smile.

Smiling back, the woman gestured to the bag she was holding. “I stopped by the market.”

Wheeling herself away from the door, the girl cooed, “Oh, apples in the fall are the best!”

Aria stepped inside, glancing around the hall. It wasn’t just her imagination, things genuinely seemed gloomy. Although she couldn’t truly point out what gave that aura. Sylvette guided her to the kitchen, humming. 

Inside, dinner was cooking away and the table had been set for one. Blinking, Aria glanced at the girl. “No Gauche?”

Tensing minutely, the girl busied herself with checking on a pot on the stove. “No, he's away on a delivery.”

A delivery. That seemed unlikely, given that she'd seen him just this afternoon. “That’s too bad. Well, his loss.” she teased.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Sylvette asked, turning to face her with a smile.

I cant say no to that face, Aria thought. “Sure! How can I help?”

The two busied themselves with cooking, chatting about every day things. Truth be told, as much as Aria wanted to inquire about Gauche's health, she didn’t feel it right of her to do so. The girl was a wreck, from her exhausted gaze to the faded smile she wore. 

Whatever had happened, had effected both siblings hard. Of course there were rumors. Aria was no stranger to those. People had been murmuring about the man and his mysterious pen pal since the letters had first started. Someone had spread the rumor that Gauche's pen pal wasn’t so much a pal as a lover, and he was acting so strange because of trouble in paradise.

Aria found that to the silliest of the rumors. She knew that the letters came from a little boy named Lag. If Gauche hadn’t told her, Sylvette would have. There was no romance or tragic heart break going on, at least not with a twelve year old boy.

Still, she couldn’t help but worry. Something had happened, but her friends had yet to say something. Whatever it was, Aria hoped it would resolve itself soon.

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	13. Chapter 13

So I had a ton of things I wanted to write, a ton of things I needed to write and a ton of things in between. We get a bit more of gauche, a lot more zazie and more of sabrina's thoughts on the situation. Its kind of a mess but i'm happy enough with it I guess.

Warning: none? Angst?

Onward!!!  
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“winter”

 

Zazie sat across from the boy, petting one of the cats that had followed them to Lag's home. The fire crackled merrily and the small room was actually quite comfortable for the tail end of November. They'd been out playing in the snow, although mostly it was just Zazie's excuse to pelt poor Connor with snowballs. 

“I have a request.” Lag stammered, playing with his cup of cocoa. 

Looking up from the cat, Zazie blinked. “Yeah? What is it?”

Lag swallowed back his nausea. “Could you mail a letter for me?”

Zazie raised an eyebrow, “Cant you do it yourself?”

All at once, Lag's fragile hopeful expression crumbled like a snowball. The boy bit his lip, looking down. How could he explain this? There was just no way to say it. Even though he'd waited his his aunt to leave the house...

“Lag...?”

Snapping out of his panic, the boy realized Zazie was still waiting for an answer. Taking a sip of his cocoa, Lag pushed down his terror. “M-My aunt would stop me. I cant mail anything without her looking through it...”

This struck Zazie as strange. Frowning, the boy tentatively asked, “Does this have to do with Gauche...?”

His composure slipped, a sob bubbling up. Startled, Zazie fumbled for words, “H-Hey, its okay! Don’t cry!”

Rubbing his eye clumsily, the boy felt stupid. He had rehearsed this in his head for days, but somehow, hearing the man's name had struck him deep. “I-I'm sorry...” he babbled, “I-I...”

Sighing, Zazie itched his head. “Listen, you don’t gotta tell me. I'll mail you're letter, alright? Where is it?”

Blinking, the boy snuffled and grabbed for a tissue. “I-I haven’t written it...”

Rolling his eyes, Zazie couldn’t help but find it almost comical. Leave it to Lag to get so emotional over a letter he hadn’t even written. “Fine. Tell me when you're done then.”

A smile tugged at his lips, the boy beaming. “T-Thank you, Zazie!”

“Yeah, yeah, wipe your nose.”

000 

“Thanks for coming with me, brother.” Sylvette said, smiling as she wheeled her way through the thick coating of snow on the ground. 

Gauche adjusted his hold on the bag of groceries, attempting to get the feeling back into his numb fingertips. His thin gloves did nothing against the frigid temperatures of winter in Yusari. “Its nothing. Its too cold, you shouldn’t be out...”

The girl laughed, high and tinkling in the still air. “This is nothing for Syl-Syl!” 

A smile tugged at the man's mouth. “I suppose. This is a lot of groceries though.”

Humming to herself, Sylvette wheeled up to the door to their house, digging in her pocket for the key. “I invited Aria and Lag to come visit! Christmas is much more fun with others.”

A dull ache filled the man's chest. He'd done his best not to think of Lag. Although, a letter coming from their address might cause more trouble than intended...

“I don’t think Lag will be coming.” Gauche said, tentatively feeling for the right words. 

Sylvette had just opened the door to the house, keys still in her hand. Frowning, the girl looked up at her brother quizzically. “Why?”

Why indeed. Looking away, Gauche felt his throat close up. There was no good way to say what had happened. No good way to explain away his recent over working, or how he stayed away so often. Nothing would patch that up simply and easily. 

Frown deepening, Sylvette realized she wouldn’t be getting an answer. Sighing, she wheeled her way into the house. “I wont count on him, then.”

Closing his eyes, the man couldn’t bring himself to respond or look at her. If she knew what he'd done, what had happened...No. She wouldn’t find out. Gauche couldn’t lose her to. 

000 

Words were not adequate in describing how Lag felt for Gauche. He'd often struggled with this problem, rewriting the same letter five times before he was satisfied. But that was for the daily going on's of his life. Those letters were about Connor's application to the post office, Zazie's newest cat or how he and Connor had gotten their first pellet guns. 

This letter would be different. It would be his only chance to express what he felt. 

Closing his eyes, Lag leaned his head in his hand, twirling the quill in his fingers absently. It had been almost a month since he'd asked Zazie for help. Still, no letter had been produced. It was already December. 

Sighing, he put down the feather and stretched, looking out his window at the town clock. The massive, ancient looking thing's wobbly metal arm slowly crawled over the 3. He was getting nowhere. 

The problem was that he was trying to say too much at once. His words were getting clustered, messy and just repeated themselves. A mess. A complete and utter mess. Another great sigh threatened to escape the boy. 

000 

Sabrina turned the crisp envelope over in her hands, lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn’t expected anything from the Suede siblings, least of all an invitation to Christmas. Perhaps Gauche had not told Sylvette what had happened? 

Sighing, the woman tucked it into her bed side table. Showing it to Lag would only cause heartache and stress. 

The invitation reminded Sabrina of the still fresh hurt that dimmed her nephew's smile. It was a painful reminder, that she'd separated him from someone he claimed to love. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that Lag was a kid. He didn’t know what love was. And he certainly was too young to see when a predator was lurking around. 

The reminder did little to stem the ache and guilt. 

000 

A knock at his door startled him from his thoughts. Turning, Lag blinked owlishly. His door had been open, and in the frame stood his aunt. Sabrina eyed the papers scattered across his desk, a strange look in her eyes. Lag made no attempt to hide them, unease welling in his stomach. 

The woman tore her eyes from the desk, a tired half smile on her lips. “I was about to go to the attic. Did you want to help me decorate?”

Lag smiled, the prospect of decorating pulling his mood from the gutters. “Sure!”

Sabrina felt the tension melt just a bit as they made their way to the attic to dig out the boxes of Christmas decorations. They were well loved, home made little things. Colorful orbs decorated with thread and glitter, faux gems and tinsel. Macaroni angels that Lag had made when his was younger, tiny rocking horses and small picture frames of Anne with her son. 

Lag held the delicate, age worn frame, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He hadn’t had much time with the woman, but he still remembered when they piled into their rickety car and traveled the dusty roads to visit Sabrina. The plump woman would have all sorts of food set out and they'd stay the weekend. 

“She went too young.” he heard his aunt murmur.

Glancing to the woman, Lag felt his heart ache. Sabrina held a tiny group photo, decorated in Lag's clumsy 7 year old macaroni art. His father had died in a war, or that’s what he'd been told. All they'd had was their tiny, three person family. It was no wonder she felt so protective of him. 

Lag set a snow globe on the mantle of the fireplace, chewing his lip. The tiny replica of Yusari Central in the glass confines was coated with tiny snow flakes. A present from a past visit, one Gauche and Sylvette had shared the credit for. Lag knew his friend-now-more was awful at gifts. 

Maybe a gift would carry along his message better...? No, there was no way to hide such a big parcel... Maybe art? No, Lag was awful at any kind of art...

Sighing, the boy watched the tiny snowflakes drift over the tiny city gloomily. 

000 

The fire in the hearth is merry and the snowflakes on the window sil look beautiful, Sylvette muses. Decorations are neatly placed on the recently cleaned walls and frames and Gauche is actually off for the day for once. 

Sylvette busied herself most of the morning with cooking up a modest feast of ham and salad and mashed potatoes and yams. Gauche smiled patiently, helping her set the heavy hunk of meat into the oven. There was honestly enough food to feed an army, and although it would probably only be the two of them, Gauche is patient with his sisters insistence that they celebrate big just in case. 

The empty chair at the table stings more than it rightly should. Gauche supposes he should expect this, he should have already fully accepted the reality. Why would Lag write to him, let alone visit? He must have realized, once his aunt sat him down properly, what a monster the man was. 

There’s a knock at the door and Sylvette sets down a steaming casserole dish of yams. She beams, looking to her brother. “Can you go see who it is?”

His heart wedges itself in his throat, irrational in the face of the sullen thoughts. Gauche nods. “Of course.”

When he opens the door, feeling oddly light headed, it isn’t Lag at their doorstep. Aria smiles pleasantly up at him, a basket of what smells like pies and a jug of cider in her arms. “Am I late?”

Fighting down the bitter, caustic taste of disappointment, Gauche offers a faint smile. “No. Come in.”

Aria isn’t surprised. Her friend has had few words to offer anyone but Sylvette in the last few months. 

000 

Dinner is normally a peaceful, comfortable time for Lag and his aunt on Christmas. Zazie often sneaks from the orphanage to attend and this year is no different. Sabrina was a good cook and the cat boy never passed up a chance to eat her cooking if he had a say in it.

Until this year, it hadn’t bothered Lag that Gauche never came for the day. The man often didn’t visit during this time of the year, actually. Work kept him busy and the roads were often too dangerous to risk a visit. 

His aunt laughed loudly at something Zazie had said, dragging the boy from his thoughts. Blinking, Lag felt a smile tug at his lips. In spite of himself, he found it in him to laugh at his friend's jokes. 

Despite the bitterness the fall had brought, Lag found he was caught up in Zazie and aunt's infectious cheerfulness. It almost numbed the ache in his chest when he thought of his missing loved one. 

Somewhere in between eating dinner and telling stories in the living room, the words finally came to Lag. Near bursting with the urgency to pour out his thoughts, the boy nearly exploded as he struggled to sit through the remainder of the night. 

000 

Snow drifted lazily through the air, like long cords of fairy lights in the darkness of early morning. Lag pulled his thick coat closer to himself, footsteps crunching as he jogged down the snowy road. 

As promised, Zazie stood anxiously under the shadow of a tall tree, blowing into his worn out gloves. Spotting Lag, he turned towards him, shuffling in place to keep warm. The boy came to stop in front of his friend, breathing a bit hard in the frosty air. 

Looking his friend over, Zazie raised an eyebrow. “Did you fall?”

Glancing up, Lag felt his cheeks warm behind his scarf. “Off the roof...”

“How did you...?”

“I fell on a bush.” the boy explained, brushing off the twigs and snow from his coat and pants. “Are you sure you can do this?” he pressed, chewing at his chapped lips.

The cat boy waved a hand, “Course I can. The orphanage doesn’t watch the mail that comes and goes. I'll just swipe a few stamps and mail it.”

Lag's shoulders slumped in relief, the first time Zazie had seen his friend so relaxed in months. The boy dug in his coat for the crinkled envelope, the address printed neatly. Zazie took it gingerly, eying it. 

His friend had approached him earlier that month, pleading for him to mail his letter. When Zazie had asked why he couldn’t do it himself, he'd been met with a sobbing wreck. It came out quickly what had happened, once the boy was calm enough to speak. 

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. A lot of emotions warred inside of Zazie. But there was no way he could tell his friend no. Not when he'd been such a wreck, so desolate the last few months. 

A smile tugged at Lag's mouth, the first genuine one he'd offered in weeks. “Thank you so much, Zazie...”

“Its nothing.” the boy said, tucking the letter carefully into his coat pocket. “You should get home, before your aunt wakes up and flays you.”

Lag offered a weak smile, the most he could manage. “I'll see you later then.”

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	14. Chapter 14

Woooaaaaah nelly, this is a pretty packed chapter. And 7 pages! Ohboy. This was...a long, long chapter to write. I had so many things I wanted to get through and get down. I think I did a pretty decent job, although I wish i'd planned for 15 chapters at the start...but oh well. I'm happy with it regardless.

Warnings: ooc? Angst, but thats a given.  
Inspiration: “rosas” by la oreja de van gogh, “from sunrise to sunset” by paul wright

w-well, one chapter left after this! It feels so sad to think that its almost done...

00000000000

 

“on the winds”

 

The crisp morning air stung Zazie's nose and exposed fingertips as he trudged through the snow, making his way to the nearest post box. He'd do most anything for Lag, but this seemed ridiculous. Not because he was aiding his friend in having a deep dark secret affair with an older man, no, but because he was ankle deep in snow.

Since when did Cambel Litus even get snow? He muttered, opening the creaking and rickety blue slot to the mail box. With a quick flick, the letter floated to the top of the over packed box. Mostly Christmas letters, the boy mused. 

Either way, he was finished and he wanted to get back to the warm bed he'd crawled out from. Winter was, by far, Zazie's least favorite season. The orphanage creaked and groaned in the winds, the chilly rain came through the old windows. And when the snow came, it made it impossible to stay warm inside or out. 

000 

Long after the grumbling cat boy had left, the mail had been picked up and carted off in a rickety truck. It was taken to a worn out post office, with equally worn out and frazzled workers. Lilly, a seasonal worker, groaned as another cart load of mail was pushed beside her.

This was not the glorious, adventurous job she'd dreamed of as a child. She'd left her family's coastal restaurant for more, damn it! 

But still, it was only to get rid of the wiggling urge to explore. Or so her mother had said. Lilly decided she wouldn’t correct her, if it meant escaping that boring place for one second. Still, this wasn’t what she'd imagined. She'd wanted fights with bandits, seeing the sun rise from the Blue Pumpkin mountains, romance!!

Sighing audibly, the girl dropped a handful of letters into the basket meant for Yodaka. Well, dreams were just that. From across the room, her supervisor snapped at her to pick up the pace, or they'd be there until February. 

Gulping, Lilly hastily began sorting. She didn’t notice the letter meant for Yusari being tossed into the Yodaka bin. 

If the letter was capable of a monologue, it might be wondering if fate was the reason Lag's precious letter was aboard a rickety, frigid truck meant for a town all the way on the opposite side of Yodaka. It might wonder, despairingly, how on earth it would ever reach Gauche now. 

Luckily, the story of the letter isn’t quite finished. 

000 

A soft click and resonating thud throughout the tired old house told Sylvette that she was alone before she even opened her eyes. Sighing, the girl dragged a hand across her face, pushing herself up to look at the time. It was barely 4:30 am. 

Every day, she thought bitterly, laying back down in her bed. It was too early and much too cold to venture out into the rest of the house just yet. Burrowing under the blankets, Sylvette felt the building nausea that had become a common feeling as of late.

No one would have described Gauche as anything but a workaholic. It was what made him who he was. But this wasn’t workaholic behavior. No, it was like he was running from something. Or, someone. 

It didn’t require much effort to figure out that Lag was connected to this sudden change in behavior. Although Gauche excused himself, citing that holiday work loads were more of a burden, Sylvette knew better.

Well, he cant run forever, she thought. The next time she caught him, she would sit him down and settle this once and for all. But for now, sleep.

000 

Brilliant shafts of gold and orange broke the bruised sky of morning. It poured over the snowy, silent town of Rengus like a tipped cup of orange juice. Gauche leaned back in his seat, gazing out over the town with something akin to awe. 

His route hadn’t changed much in the last few years. Lag or no Lag, the town had stayed the same dusty ghost town it had always been. From here, he could see the abandoned chimney of Lag's former home. The house stood in its barren field, cold and lonely. 

Most mornings were like this. Gauche would start out early, reaching the town while the sky was still a deep aubergine. He'd settle back with a thermos of coffee and watch the world awaken around him. No one would be expecting him for some time, and at any rate he found the bustling city of Central far too suffocating. 

More and more these days, Gauche found himself lost in the quiet mornings of Rengus. Afternoons were for Central. His days blended together, a mess of frigid truck rides and a whirlwind of confused and new seasonal workers. He could, sometimes, forget the dull ache in his chest.

No letters had come for him. No attempts at contact or to rekindle things. It could be that Lag's aunt was keeping him from contacting Gauche. It could also be that the boy had finally opened his eyes to the monster he was. 

Closing his eyes, Gauche reminded himself that this was his punishment. He'd made his bed, he should lay in it. Falling in love with someone out of his reach was completely ridiculous from the start. And yet...

He let out a soft breath, unscrewing his thermos. Taking a quick swig, the man counted to ten. After a moment, the desperate feelings of frustration and loneliness faded to a dull throb. Manageable. Something he could hide. 

Hiding was another thing Gauche had learned to do. He'd always been aware of how much discretion he needed to use with Lag, but this was an entirely different matter. Sylvette's questioning gaze was always on him. Coworkers were always watching him. Eyes were following him at all times and no amount of excuses would ever smooth over this wrinkle if it ever came to the surface.

It wasn’t lost on him that Sylvette was hurting. He knew, soon, that she'd want answers and he wouldn’t be able to escape those clear, sharp eyes. Lying wasn’t something Gauche could do, not to his sister's face. 

But he couldn’t lose her to...

Sighing, the man tilted his head back to stare up at the dusty ceiling of the cab. The past and the truth always caught up. Whether it was from his lips, or Lag's, it would come out. Better he say it out loud now, than have it heard through the grape vine. 

 

000 

The sun crested the mountains, shining down on the crumbly road. It glittered on the snow, a sight to behold, if the truck hadn’t been besieged by bandits. Mock drew a sharp breath, leaning against the old truck tiredly. Around him lay bodies, rusting the snow with their blood. 

Holidays were the worst, the man thought bitterly. The Peppermint Patty mountain range was always an unpleasant place to travel. It always brought out the worst people. The group had circled him, came in from the back of the truck and he'd nearly been finished off before he'd had time to slam on the breaks. 

Glancing at the swinging doors to the truck, Mock sighed hard. The road was a mess. Letters were laying in the snow, slowly dampening. Muttering, the man peeled himself from the cold truck and began to pick the envelopes and packages up. No doubt some of these held checks or money, probably even rare goods. 

As he turned, he wasn’t aware of an envelope fluttering loosely next to an overturned stone. It drifted up on the breeze and swirled. With another gust, it was zipping down the mountain, off to who knew where. 

000 

Turning the dusty envelopes in her hands, Sabrina closed her eyes and sighed quietly. New Years and Christmas passed without incident. January was almost ten days in, the snow still thick and impassible on the roads. 

Nearly four months had passed, and Lag still drifted from room to room like a phantom. He came home from school with a tight smile, speaking as little as possible. Heavy bags clung to his eyes like dark clouds before a storm. 

It had been four months, and Lag was still a wreck. He contained it better, of course. Sabrina didn’t catch him crying at his desk, or taking off at the first sign of a mail truck anymore. The improvements were skin deep, she knew. Meant to disguise the intense heart ache he felt, to convince the world that he was alright, really.

It didn’t fool Sabrina for a moment. 

There was no one to ask about what to do. No one who could point the woman in the right direction. Dimly, she remembered her mother staying up late, head in her hands. Anne had been the same, once upon a time, with her husband as well. She'd ran away, leaving heartbreak and an emptiness that never quite left the house. 

Sabrina wouldn’t let that happen twice. Whatever she had to do, she would mend the hurt she'd put in her nephews heart. If that meant allowing him to write to that man again...

Glancing at the thick envelopes in her hand, the woman felt her stomach turn. It couldn’t go on. She'd fix this. She'd do what her mother had refused to do. 

000 

“We need to talk.”

Looking up from where he was unlacing his boots, Gauche blinked owlishly. Sylvette was waiting for him in the hall when he'd returned late that night. The exhaustion showed in her doll-like face, so unused to staying awake this late. A frown tugged at her lips.

This was how it ended, then. 

Stomach turning, the man tugged off his boots. Sighing quietly, he straightened up and shrugged off his jacket. He could feel her gaze on him like a needle in his thumb. When he was ready, he faced the girl with a tired smile. 

“Alright.”

000 

The letter drifted over the plains of Yodaka at its own leisurely pace. Through the spokes of carriage wheels, to toasty heaps of hay in covered wagons. Through rain, snow and sunshine, it drifted wherever the wind took it. 

000 

Lag stared down at the envelopes in his hand. There were three, all from Sylvette. The dates were set from November and December, invitations to dinner and pleas for him to just talk to her. A strange mixture of emotions fizzled in his stomach. There was a chill that was bone deep, but Lag didn’t think it had come from the cold air outside.

Sabrina sat across from him at the kitchen table, hands folded tiredly. She watched the warring emotions in the boy's eyes, wondering what he'd express first. 

“You...you kept these...?” he murmured, disbelieving. 

“I did.”

For a moment, Lag was speechless. His eyes stayed on the neat hand writing, the tidily spaced out words seemingly to float off the page. “I...I thought you'd throw them out.” he said, swallowing hard.

A wry smile tugged at the woman's mouth. “I wanted to.”

Turning his eyes up from the paper hesitantly, Lag felt his throat close up. “W-What stopped you...?”

A moment of silence passed, before Sabrina sighed and leaned back into her chair. “You probably don’t know, but your mother was the same as you.” she began. “She fell in love with someone she shouldn’t have.”

Lips pressing into a thin line, Lag kept quiet. “Our mother refused to allow it. As much as she was right, it didn’t go the way she thought it would. Anne ran away, and we didn’t see her for a long time.”

The woman brought her cup of coffee to her lips, taking a long sip. Lag watched her, chewing his lip. “It must have been hard on you guys...” he mumbled.

“It was.” Sabrina set her cup down, sighing. “But...as hard as it was for my mother, I imagine it was a hard choice for your mother as well.” settling her gaze on her nephew, Sabrina let a tired, sad smile tug at her lips. “I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to lose you to.”

Lag wanted badly to say he understood where this was going. Chewing his lip, the boy asked quietly, “Does this mean...?”

Sabrina fought the urge to snort. “No. I don’t support the relationship you want with Gauche.” when she saw the way her words hit the boy, leaving him breathless for a moment, she continued, “But if this is what you want, I know you'll find a way to have it. Regardless of how I feel. I'd rather know you were safe than find your bedroom empty one day.”

It occurred to Lag, that this must have kept his aunt awake at night more often than he'd ever know. The guilt gnawed at him. Truth be told, he'd contemplated running away once or twice. He could understand why she'd be so concerned, especially with her past with his mother. 

Still, as much as the words hurt, Lag understood. “What do you want me to do then...?”

Sabrina was silent for a moment. Sighing, the woman felt her insides clench at the words. “It doesn’t matter what I want.” before the boy could open his mouth, she continued, “Do what you need to. I'll be here, no matter what.”

And she would, Lag realized dimly. No matter what he chose, he knew his aunt wouldn’t abandon him. If in the next year he decided he hated Gauche, she would still be there to fall back on. A warmth filled his stomach, his breathing jumping slightly. 

“A-Auntie...”

Sighing dramatically, the woman felt a smile form. “Oh come over here, you big crybaby.”

Lag didn’t need to be told twice. Standing, he nearly knocked down the chair in his haste to scramble around the table. The boy threw his arms around her, burying his face in her chest as he hiccuped. Sabrina felt her heart lurch as his hiccups became full fledged wails, running a hand through his hair slowly.

It had taken her almost four months to make this choice. And she might regret it in the future. She might hate herself for allowing this to happen at all. But right then, Sabrina was just happy to have her nephew in her arms again. 

000 

Life had a funny way of knocking you flat when you least expected it. For almost a year, Gauche had carefully hidden the affair from Sylvette. Not in a million years, would he have expected his dear sister to already know his deep dark secret. Nor would he have guessed that she supported him. 

Sighing, the man tugged on his coat as he left the house. The door clicked shut behind him, a thin layer of snow untouched on the cobblestones. January had come and gone, February well on its way. Gauche could already see the world coming back to life, even in the bleakness of a winter morning. 

Just like the trees would bloom again, Gauche was sure that someday, he to would feel warm and alive. Sylvette's words rang in his head, soft and assured. 

“I don’t think he has a choice in this. You know he'd contact us if he could. He loves you.”

And maybe, just maybe, Sylvette was right. But he couldn’t wait his whole life for that, either. He'd have to move on. Someday, maybe he would.

Blowing into his hands, Gauche began to make his way down the narrow road. Something rustled softly underfoot. Pausing, the man looked down to see a letter sitting neatly on the snow. As if it had just landed, like a feather. Frowning, he knelt down and picked it up. 

His heart stopped. 

It was addressed to him.

00000000000

8D....o-one more chapter left! (broken sobbing) idontwantittoend....


	15. M15 Love

Easily the longest of all the last chapters. Its so long, it felt like years. But! I really like how it came out. Even if it glides over some information. I do intend to do a cute oneshot about this particular part of the story tho. 

Warnings: ooc, angst, underage shit  
inspiration: “love story” by taylor swift, “cant help falling in love with you” by elvis, “rosas” by la oreja de van gogh.

Well...onward! 

0000000000000

 

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving gives you courage.

Lao Tzu

“love”

It had been six months since Lag sent the letter. In that time, he and Sabrina had come to an understanding. Zazie had gotten a job at the local post office with Connor. His troublesome pug had finally learned how to behave and the ice flows in the harbor had finally cleared. 

No letter had returned for him. No word from Gauche, or Sylvette. 

Dread had begun to settle in the boy's stomach from the end of February. Sabrina, in her endless patience and wisdom, had suggested that perhaps it just hadn’t reached Lag yet. It was no secret that the roads were hellish this time of year and the post office was serviceable at best this far out from Central. There was no reason to worry.

It did little to sooth the knot in his stomach as March crawled to an end. Eventually, Sabrina's calm reassurance began to fade. Even Zazie found it difficult to continue cheering up his friend. It had been mailed in the end of December, it should have reached Gauche by now. The man was always prompt with his replies. Why wasn’t he responding?

May was rounding the corner now. Still no sign of Gauche.

000 

Between school and studying for exams, Lag hadn’t found time to leave the house in what felt like days. Heaving a sigh, the boy tugged his thin jacket closer to himself. The dry air still had a bite to it after four in the afternoon, something he was looking forward to leaving soon. 

Sabrina had asked him to run to the grocery store and get some milk, despite the full bottle Lag had seen in the icebox. Kicking a pebble, the boy sighed again. He knew it was a thinly veiled attempt to get him to leave the house. He'd been cooped up in his room, pouring over text books for so long that his vision was getting fuzzy around the edges. 

School was winding to a fever pitch, speeding towards June without any heed to Lag's mental health or physical well being. It was all he could do to keep up with the homework or helping with his aunt's midwife business after school. 

To be honest, Lag was beyond relieved to be so busy. It gave him little time to think about Gauche or the months that had separated them. If anything, the release from his problems that school and work gave him had become addicting. So much so that he felt anxious and uneasy as he made his way to the grocery store.

Looking up to the rusty sky, Lag wondered if this was what love was supposed to be like. Or if it'd ever stop hurting. He wanted it to, so badly. It occurred to the boy, as he waited at an intersection, that this was what Sabrina had been trying to shield him from. Or at least, part of it. 

As traffic slowed to a stop, Lag began to pick his way across the street. A few drivers waved to Lag and called out greetings as he crossed. Putting on a smile, the boy waved and greeted them back. It was hard to make his way anywhere in this town without someone hailing him down. Every car was familiar, just another piece of the background that he made his way across daily.

“Lag...?”

Pausing, the boy felt a chill run down his spine. Turning his head mechanically, Lag turned to look at the origin of the voice. In a familiar beat up truck – Oh god, that truck... he could still see the faded, chipped blue paint from the post office's logo on the side. – , gripping the steering wheel hard as he leaned forward, was Gauche.

As their eyes locked, it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. Sucking in a harsh breath, Lag stood stock still. Around him, a few cars honked in irritation from behind the beat up old truck. They swerved around the stationary vehicle, making a tidy line of sputtering old cars that circled the two like a river. 

Swallowing hard, Gauche leaned out the window of his truck. He was watching Lag as if he were a deer that might dart off if he made a wrong move. For a long moment, only the sound of sputtering cars and noisy pedestrians filled the air. 

“G-Gauche...”

000 

A thermos of stale coffee sat between them as the truck puttered through the narrow streets. The cracked old leather seats squeaked with every bump of the road and Lag found himself digging his fingers into the familiar old holes in the cracks. The foam and springs were a comfort. 

Gauche shifted the old truck as he turned it. Glancing at him from behind the safety of his messy hair, Lag felt his throat close up. Outwardly, not much had changed with the man. Although there were prominent bags under his eyes and his jaw had a faint shadow over it, Gauche seemed to be the same person he'd known before November. 

Had Lag changed at all...? The thought seemed foreign, something superfluous when the thought was applied to the puzzle that was his current situation. Lag was almost thirteen and a half now... he felt so lost and small, despite such a big time in his life.

As the truck pulled to a stop, Lag realized they were just outside of town, near the bluffs. The spindly trees that hid the path up had just gotten their leaves back and the rocks were slick with frost. Swallowing hard, the boy unbuckled his seat belt, anxious to escape the memory laden cab. He heard Gauche follow at a much slower pace. 

They made their way up the weathered pathway in silence, picking their way across the rocks with practiced ease. It had been an unspoken agreement to wait until they were truly alone, somewhere that their charged conversation wouldn’t spill out of. The thought of his aunt finding out that Gauche was not only in town but alone with her nephew was...beyond terrifying.

Lag was, not for the first time, blown away by the beauty of the sea at sunset. The murky cobalt glittered blindingly as it lapped at the sky and sinking sun. All around them, the chilly ruddy stone glowed. 

It was hard to imagine a more beautiful and scenic place to finally see Gauche again. Part of him thought it ironic. Coming to stand next to him, the man kept his gaze on the sky beyond the bluffs. They stayed that way for a long moment, the silence pregnant. 

“Its beautiful.” Gauche murmured.

Lag nodded. “Yeah..”

The silence broke like an egg, the dread released like yolk in the shades of gold and rust around them. The realization that it was too late to back out of this now enveloped them. Closing his eyes, Gauche steeled himself for what was to come.

“Lag...”

A sharp intake of breath caught him off guard. Glancing down, a stake drove through his chest. Lag was so stiff, a hand balled in the fabric of his thin jacket. His gaze stayed on the horizon. Looking away, the man told himself to make this quick. He didn’t want to hurt Lag more than he already had.

“I know that...you must have a lot to say to me.” he said, the words lodging in his throat.

There was a pause, before Lag found his voice again. “I...I do.” he murmured. 

Gauche waited for him to speak. When it became apparent to him that the boy had no intentions of it, he decided to give the boy a nudge. “So...?”

Blinking, Lag felt his heart jump into his throat. He hated being put on the spot. Closing his eyes, the boy took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. When he thought he could talk without throwing up, he turned to face the man. 

In the light of dusk, Gauche seemed so much more faint and ethereal. 

“Why didn’t you write back...?” he asked, the hurt cracking his voice, much to his chagrin. 

Gauche didn’t reply immediately. It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated this question or that he didn’t know how to respond, but that it was difficult to put the swirling emotions into words. Words that were honest and didn’t shift blame or cause undue pain for either of them.

He wished that he could communicate his thoughts as easily as the waves below them swept in and out. “I only recently got the letter.” he explained softly, worrying his lip. “I thought it would be more appropriate to talk to you in person.”

The feeling of Lag's unwavering gaze on him made him shift his weight anxiously. He plowed on, words coming at a more frenzied pace. “There was a lot of work, with all the holidays and Sylvette needed to go to the doctor and...” 

An accidental glance in Lag's direction made the man pause. The boy's lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed. Heaving a short sigh, Gauche felt his stomach clench. Looking back to the sky, he felt a wry smile pull at his lips. “And I was terrified...” 

A silence built up between them. In spite of this entire meeting meant to be geared towards answering Lag's concerns and soothing the hurt, all he'd done was cause a bigger rift between them it seemed. It seemed to be all Gauche was capable of.

Biting the inside of his cheek, the man realized that was probably all he'd ever give Lag. Just hurt and heart ache. “I...I'm sorry.” he murmured, jaw clenching. “I'm sorry, for all the hurt and all of the trouble I've caused you.”

The silence yanked at his heart and Gauche couldn’t bring himself to look at Lag. Couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the bitterness he'd see in that sweet, sunny face. Closing his eyes, he pushed out the words he wasn’t sure he honestly meant. “If...If I could take it all back...I wou-”

“Don’t say that!”

Startled, the man turned to look in Lag's direction. He was met with a body crashing into him, almost toppling Gauche. Blinking quickly, the man felt two arms pull him into a tight hug, a nose burying itself in his torso.

“D-Don t ever say that again!” Lag cried, shoulders quaking as he shook his head fast. 

As the boy hiccuped, warm tears dampening his shirtfront, Gauche felt his heart skip a beat. Whatever Lag was thinking, he couldn’t say for sure. But he didn’t care right then either. Wrapping him up in a hug. 

He'd grown up like a weed... Gauche could almost press his face to the boy's head without bending down. “I'm sorry...”

They stayed that way for a long time. Just reveling in each other's embrace, as if the world didn’t exist. Gauche carded his fingers through the boy's hair slowly, relishing in the silky texture. It had grown some. Turning to press his cheek to the man's hand, Lag sighed softly. 

A smile tugged at Gauche's lips, brushing away a tear stain with his thumb gently. Opening his eyes partway, Lag felt his cheeks warm. After nearly eight months of being denied the comfort of his touch, it was nearly overwhelming. Swallowing back his reservations, he leaned up on his tiptoes. Gauche met him midway, dipping to press their lips together. 

Lag was as warm and sweet as he'd been so long ago. 

Gathering the boy up in his arms, he pulled him closer. Lag's hands fisted in the back of his worn jacket, eyes sinking closed. This was what drowning felt like, he thought. Breath lost, world spinning, it was all Lag could manage just to hold on.

And just like that, it was over. Panting, the boy pushed lightly at Gauche's chest. Sucking in a breath, Gauche pulled away and looked down at Lag in confusion. He wasn’t looking at him. Dread filled the man.

Gently, hesitantly, he murmured, “Whats wrong...?”

Taking a deep breath, the boy kept his eyes closed. It took a long moment before he could speak, his heart hammering against his ribs. The absolute powerlessness was unbearable. Being tossed around in a sea of emotions like a wayward toy ship, being lead around on a string of sweet words and warm hands was becoming impossible to handle.

The memory of the last time those hands had been on him knocked the wind from Lag. 

“Lag...?”

“I-I cant do this...” he said weakly, not looking at the man.

A silence blanketed them. It felt impossibly heavy and Lag couldn’t find his breath for a moment. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he looked up. The look of sheer hurt and confusion in Gauche's eyes nearly sent him reeling back into that inescapable need to pretend. 

“I-Its not...Its not that I don’t love you...” Lag began, fumbling for the right words, even as Gauche seemed to retreat from him. “Its just that...” he paused, biting his lip as he tried to voice it. “I-I'm not ready for this...” he admitted, letting his head drop miserably.

For a second time, the moment seemed to never end. When he thought it never might, a warm hand on his head startled the boy. Blinking, Lag looked up, eyes stinging. Gauche offered a faint smile, petting him gently.

“I understand.” 

Staring at him, Lag felt his throat start to close up as dewy tears began to well up. “I-Its... Its not forever, w-we can still be f-friends and...!”

Lag was gathered up into a gentle hug. Warm and safe from the cold or the heart ache. Face pressed to the man's chest, he heard him say, “Its alright, Lag.”

Swallowing hard, Lag let himself relax into the embrace. Gauche brushed his fingers through the boy's hair, soothing him as his little friends shoulders began to quake. It wasn’t that Gauche truly understood, not really. It was that just knowing Lag was alright, that he could continue to be in his life was a precious gift. 

Snuffling, the boy murmured a soft, “Thank you...”

000 

The ride back home felt impossibly long. Even once the peace had been made and even though the silence between them was a comfortable one, it felt as if Lag was waiting for a very important letter to come. Gauche shifted the old truck as he pulled up along side Lag's house, noting the lit up windows. Sabrina's silhouette could be seen peering from the kitchen window, before it vanished. 

Taking a deep breath, Lag turned to smile weakly up at his friend. “I really missed you...I'm glad we could talk again.”

Gauche returned the smile, tired but genuine. “Me to.”

His aunt was waiting for him in the house, probably terrified of what might be happening. The chill in the air began to pervade the drafty cab. Tugging his coat closed a bit more, the boy swallowed back his anxiety.

“Can...can I keep writing to you?” he murmured.

The slight shake in his voice was not lost on Gauche. “Of course, Lag.” he said, nodding. “We're friends.”

“Friends...”

It felt...foreign and wrong, somehow. In spite of the fierce heart ache it caused him, Lag leaned against the man, nuzzling his shoulder. “Thank you...”

“Its nothing.”

By the time Lag disengaged from Gauche, night had fully set on the sleepy town of Cambel. The street lamps were burning brightly as he watched the old truck putter away and down the narrow street.

Just like that, he was alone. Alone to his thoughts and the sound of the front door opening. Sabrina's voice registered in his head, but he could barely wrap his mind around what just happened. It wasn’t until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder that Lag snapped out of the daze he'd been in.

Turning to face the woman, Lag felt empty for just a moment. Then, the waves of emotion crashed hard over him. 

“A-Auntie...”

At the sight of his crumbling expression, Sabrina pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, Lag...”

Without missing a beat, Lag buried his face in her chest, shoulders quaking. He heard her soft voice murmur to him, her big tough hands rubbing his back. Somehow, she was easing the tears out of his already aching eyes. Like a skilled artist whittled away at stone until it became something beautiful. 

Sabrina didn’t pressure him to talk that night. They went back into the house, warmed up with dinner, went about their nightly rituals and retired to their bedrooms. Lag couldn’t have been more grateful.

As he lay in his bed that night, watching the rain patter against his window, Lag knew he'd done the right thing. Not for his aunt or for Gauche, but for himself. As much as it broke his heart and as much as it hurt Gauche, Lag knew this was what he himself needed. No pressure, no conflicting loyalties, just time to grow and work through the storm of thoughts and emotions. 

Painful as the last year had been, Lag was happy he'd had those long empty months to see the world in a new light. Even if that light burned right now.

000 

“It don’t feel right, seein' this room so empty.” Sabrina mourned, looking around her nephew's once cluttered bedroom.

“Its only for a bit.” Lag soothed, folding his clothes as neatly as he could.

His aunt nudged him aside and refolded the shirt, sighing. “How are you goin' to live on your own, when you cant even fold a shirt?”

A small smile curved the boy's lips. “I'm not going to be alone. I'll be sharing a room with another student.”

Sabrina didn’t seem all that comforted by this. Lag wasn’t sure he blamed her. Even if they were supervised, the idea of strange young men his age being left mostly to themselves was not a comforting one. He supposed the memory of Gauche helped to cement that sentiment. 

For the most part, his room was the same as the day before. Outside of his clothing and some personal mementos, all of Lag's things remained intact. It wasn’t as if he was leaving forever, after all. 

“Still, Yusari is so far away...”

“Auntie...”

“I know, I know.” Sabrina said, sighing and shaking her head. “Its just a bridge away, nothin' that cant be crossed for a day trip.” she eyed Lag as he laughed quietly. “And you better come visit. Don’t think just 'cuz you're a few cities away, that I wont come find you.”

Smiling warmly, the boy nodded. “I know, auntie.”

It felt strange sometimes, to be treated like a child. At the age of fifteen, Lag felt more confused about the world now than he had ever before. But in spite of all the tumultuous emotions, life had pushed right on along. With entrance exams and a thriving economy on the rise, the time to act was now. 

And whether or not Lag was ready, adulthood wouldn’t wait. His teachers had insisted he attend a prestigious boarding school in Central, one that he'd worked hard to find the money for from side jobs and scholarships. It would be a waste to chicken out now.

Sabrina helped him close up his suitcases and haul them off downstairs. Heart in his throat, the familiar sound of a beat up old truck pulling up outside stopped his thoughts. Lag heard his aunt mutter something about never wasting a moment, but the sight of that recently washed, faded blue logo along the dented metal soothed his nerves. 

Some things never changed. Gauche still found him at the right time, as if nearly a year of missing time had never happened. 

Sabrina, with the patience and kindness of a saint, opened the door just as the man was about to knock. He stood there awkwardly, swallowing hard. “H-Hello, Ms. Mary...”

Raising an eyebrow, the woman remarked, “You got here fast. Did you run down some people to get here?”

“N-No, ma'am.”

Stepping aside with a sigh, Sabrina allowed Gauche to enter. “C'mon in, we're not quite ready yet.”

Swallowing back his anxiety, Gauche did as told. He stood rigidly by the door until he was certain it was alright, tugging off his shoes and shucking off his heavy coat. Sabrina caught Lag's stare, lips forming a thin line. Looking away quickly, the boy busied himself with making sure he had everything ready to go. 

As much as his aunt tried to postpone the inevitable by double checking his luggage or making small talk with Gauche, time seemed to get away from them. Before long, they were loading his suitcases into the back of the truck. It wasn’t much, but it seemed like so much now that it was out of Lag's hands. 

Turning to face Sabrina, Lag gasped as he was swallowed up in a tight hug. Blinking a few times, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Warm and safe. Nuzzling into her shoulder, he felt a smile tug his lips.

“Make sure you write to me, alright?”

“I will, auntie.”

“And don’t work too hard! You need to take a break now and then!”

“I know.”

Tightening her hold, Sabrina murmured, “And don’t forget about me, while you're off growing up. Alright?”

Heart aching, Lag scrubbed in vain at a tear. “I-I wont.”

Letting out a watery laugh, Sabrina chided, “Don’t you start the water works, you!”

Lag hiccuped, scrubbing his eyes. “I-I'm not!”

Gauche watched the tiny family with a small smile, closing the back of the truck and locking it. It was hard not to be envious of Lag, for having such a warm and loving aunt. He'd only known Anne a bit, and although his time with Sabrina had been less than ideal, the woman was the kind of mother he'd have liked. 

Breaking away from his aunt after a long moment, Lag scrubbed at his eyes. With a few more goodbyes and promises to talk and send letters, the boy climbed into Gauche's truck. It started with a sputtering gasp and puttered away slowly. As the familiar streets rolled by as a slow pace, a bubble began to inflate in the boy's chest.

It would be four months until Lag saw the inside of Camebl Litus's ancient stone walls again. They hadn’t even left the town and already Lag wanted to jump out and rush home. 

Gauche sat silently as the boy began to weep quietly, chewing his lip. He steered the old truck through the narrow lanes and up the familiar old exit. They passed under the great shadows of tired oak trees, the leaves shading them from the harsh August sunlight. 

When Lag became unable to breathe through his stuffed nose, Gauche nudged a box of tissues towards him. Mumbling a watery “thank you”, the boy took the proffered tissues gratefully and mopped up the mess that was his face right then.

They stayed that way for a long time, silent as the truck swayed. The old roads were only recently fixed and the same potholes seemed to remain regardless. Even though he could drive this road with his eyes closed, Gauche thought it would be best to remain vigilant. 

Around noon, they came to a familiar old gas station. It was as empty as ever, the ever present smell of fried food wafting from the half open dirty glass windows. As Gauche steered the truck up to a pump, he glanced to Lag.

“Are you hungry?”

Blinking, a warmth filled the boy's chest. “Yeah.”

000 

Lags bag is lightly packed with sweaters, cardigans and pants. As he goes over the list he'd made up a few days ago, the boy wonders if he's missed anything crucial. There’s his toothbrush, his homework for winter break. Everything is there, he's certain.

A pair of warm arms pull him to a sturdy chest, a chin settling into his mussed hair. “You look nervous.”

Lag blinks, cheeks growing warm. “A bit.”

Gauche hums in understanding, knowing that its only natural for his loved one to be anxious. Its been almost six months since summer break and even when Sabrina braved the train system to visit him for his birthday, going home must be nerve rattling. 

“You don’t have to tell her, if you aren’t ready.” Gauche murmurs.

Tensing under the man's arms, Lag mumbled, “I cant lie to her.”

“I'm not saying to.” Gauche said, nuzzling his head. 

Lag wanted to point out that not saying anything was as bad as lying, especially when his aunt had placed so much trust in him. But he knew what Gauche meant. Sighing, the boy turned to face him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We need to finish packing.”

“Already done.” 

Blinking, Lag turned and noticed the suitcase by the door. Well, it made sense to see only one, he supposed. Gauche wouldn’t be staying long, while Lag was home for the break. The sight sent a jolt of nausea through him. 

“I wish you could stay longer...” Lag mumbled. 

Gauche offered a small smile, ruffling his hair. “I cant leave Sylvette. And then there’s work...”

“I know, but still...”

Pulling the sulking teenager into an embrace, he sighed. “It'll go by faster than you'd think.”

Part of Lag hoped that was the case. As much as he missed his aunt, the thought of being away from Gauche was unpleasant. Those nagging whispers that it'd result in another year of missing him were ever present, even when Lag knew it wasn’t healthy to cling so hard.

“Maybe...”

000

How long had it been since he'd last been home? Lag wondered as Gauche's rickety truck slowed to a stop in front of the well loved house. Between them, Sylvette blew into her hands and rubbed them together. 

“I cant wait to see your aunt, Lag!” she said, laughing with a delighted smile.

The boy – more of a teenager now, right? Even being sixteen, he felt so small – smiled warmly, nodding. “She always asks about you. She says she has a new recipe for you.”

An amused smile tugged at Gauche's lips as he shifted the truck into park, opening his door with a creak and hopping out. Lag followed suit, opening the door and slipping out with a crunch into the snow. Huffing, he wondered why Cambel was getting hit so bad the last few years. Being in the south, it wasn’t really the norm. 

As Gauche collected his sister from the cab and deposited her into her wheelchair, Lag unloaded their bags. By the time he'd gotten the last bag out, Sabrina was at the door and ushering in the siblings with a broad smile. 

Sylvette was like the daughter his aunt hadn’t been blessed with. Sabrina always had such a warm smile when she saw the girl or even talked about her, such a contrast to the stiff smile she offered Gauche. 

“You look so thin! What are you being fed at that school?” the woman fussed as Lag tugged off the worn coat Gauche had given him a few months prior.

Laughing a bit, he said, “Lots of sandwiches and soup.” 

“Sylvette's been determined to feed him better meals than the school would give.” Gauche chimed in, helping the girl shuck off her thick coat. 

“Well,” the woman began, “I'm glad that she's there to take care of him.”

A dull ache of guilt stabbed at Lag as he fumbled with his laces. “Sylvette and Gauche have been very good to me.” he said, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

Gauche's cheeks warmed as he hung up the coats, the color bright and obvious against his pale skin. Sabrina raised an eyebrow, but chose not to voice whatever she was thinking. Lag was relieved. He didn’t think he could handle that right now.

The group shuffled towards the living room, taking up spots in the sofa. Once everyones hands were filled with mugs of hot cocoa, Sabrina began to inquire about the last few months of Sylvette and Lag's lives. School, Sylvette's doll business and Lag's role in delivering those around the town. Once, briefly, Sabrina inquired about Gauche and his job, but even Lag could tell that the woman still hadn’t completely gotten comfortable talking to him. 

At least they could sit in the same room again. 

000 

By some miracle, they made it through dinner before Lag couldn’t take it anymore. As Gauche carried his sister up the stairs to the guest room, Lag swallowed hard and approached his aunt. She had her back to him, arms submerged in the sink as she scrubbed a dish. Many a time as a child, Lag remembered this exact scene. Usually it was something silly, like coming home with a bad grade on a test or a ripped shirt from playing too roughly. 

This was a bit more serious, though, he mused. 

“What did you need to talk about?” came Sabrina's comforting voice.

Starting, Lag kicked himself for forgetting how many times this exact scene really had happened. Swallowing hard, the boy took a slow breath. “I...I wanted to talk to you. About...when I was thirteen.”

All at once, the soothing white noise of clinking dishes and sloshing water halted. He could see the woman's shoulders draw up. “I see. What about it?”

It took a long moment for Lag to summon the courage to speak. Heart hammering in his chest, he suppressed the nausea building in his stomach. “I...I've decided to restart things, w-with Gauche.”

Sabrina was silent for a moment, before turning with a quiet sigh. Drying her hands on her apron, the woman regarded him with a serious expression. “Have you thought about it?”

Lag nodded firmly. “I have. A-And we both agreed to take things slowly.”

It felt as if she was looking through the boy. He felt like he was seven and trying to tell a fib to her. At last, something turned the impassive gaze soft, and Sabrina sighed again. “Well, as long as you know what you're doing.”

A jolt raced up Lag. “A-Aunty...?”

Walking to the boy, she ruffled his unruly hair gently. “I'll be here, even if things don’t go well.”

Blinking fast, Lag sucked in a sharp breath. “T-Thank you...” he breathed. 

“Hey, you're sixteen now, none of that.” Sabrina chided, laughing a bit as she gathered him up in a tight hug. She didn’t need to be told or asked to comfort the boy.

Burying his face in her shoulder, Lag couldn’t stop the broad smile from forming on his face. Even with the ever present doubt, of course she'd come through. Sabrina always had, even if it took a while sometimes. 

Pulling away, Sabrina offered him a suspicious look. “You weren’t telling me this so you could have a sleep over, were you?”

Lag's face turned beet red. Shaking his head fast, he sputtered, “O-Of course not!”

Laughing boisterously, Sabrina shook her head and ruffled his hair again. She didn’t offer a reply as she moved to go back to the dishes. Blinking owlishly, the boy huffed and mumbled, “That was mean, aunty...”

“Sorry.” she said, but it was clear that she didn’t mean it. 

000 

Chatter drifted from the kitchen, a soothing white noise. An arm drew Lag closer and he melted into the embrace. It felt good to be able to just relax in Gauche's arms, in front of a fireplace with a plate of gingerbread cookies and a mug of cocoa. Outside, the snow fell lazily, like strings of popcorn or fairylights. 

How long had it been since he could feel this comfortable at home? 

Gauche rested his head in the teen's downy hair, humming softly. “Its good to see them getting along so well.”

“Aunty adores Sylvette.” Lag said, nuzzling under the man's chin.

There was an unspoken wish for the woman to feel that way for Gauche as well, and Lag wasn’t sure which of them wished for it the most. But just the fact that they could sit like this, warm and close, was a huge step towards that.

Over the last few days, Sabrina had been surprisingly kind towards Gauche. The tension was still there, but she was making a bigger effort than before. Lag liked to think it was because she wanted to be friendly with her nephews lover, but more likely she just wanted to be supportive. 

Either way, Lag was relieved. Smiling against the cookie he was nibbling on, the teen closed his eyes. It couldn’t get better than this, could it? He wondered, chest filling with butterflies. 

After all of the heart ache, the whirlwind of emotions and tragedies, it felt so good to just be at peace with Gauche. Like a dream that finally came true, after such a long nightmare. 

0000000000  
i'm gonna miss this one the most...such a fond memory, I really loved this fic the best. But all good things end I guess...


End file.
